No Way Out
by Fish Stick Friday
Summary: A routine trip to the bank turns into a nightmare when three armed men rob the bank Camille and Logan went to and take everyone there hostage. On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've never watched the show '24' but I'm pretty sure the setup will be similar to that. There will be 24 chapters. Each chapter will cover one hour. Chapter 1 will cover the first hour. Chapter 2 will cover the second hour, and so on and so forth.**

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon. I am not Nickelodeon. Therefore, I do not own Big Time Rush.**

**No Way Out**

Ever since Logan got his driver's license, he had been taking me to and picking me up from auditions instead of my dad. Well, when he could. He had a pretty busy schedule himself. But having Logan take me and pick me up was _much_ better than having my dad take me and pick me up. I mean I was almost seventeen years old! Getting a ride from my dad was…_embarrassing_.

Logan and I were in an on-again-off-again relationship that was currently on-again. I thought he was going out on a date with Peggy, so I went out on a date with Steve. When his date fell through, I thought he would ask me to be his date, but he didn't. That was the only time I went out on a date with Steve though. I think Logan and I were both kidding ourselves if we thought we could actually date other people. We were kind of like one of those couples who even when we weren't together, we were together.

I stepped out of the building and saw Logan waiting for me in the Big Time Rush Mobile. Upon seeing me, he waved at me and flashed me a trademark dimpled smile. My heartbeat sped up, and I think I melted inside. I was pretty sure I was blushing too. I couldn't help myself. Logan has the most adorable smile.

As I approached the vehicle, I wasn't the least bit surprised when Logan got out of the car, walked around, and held the passenger side door open for me. He always did little things like that. He was such a gentleman. Logan planted a chaste kiss on my cheek before I climbed in the passenger side.

"Hey Camille," he greeted.

"Logan," I answered.

After shutting my door for me, he walked around the front of the car, and climbed in the driver's side, shutting the door behind him. We both put on our seat belts, and Logan started the car. He pulled out of the parking space, and we were on our way. Logan kept one hand on the steering wheel, but with his free hand, the two of us held hands.

This time around, Logan had been getting much better with public displays of affection. Whereas before, I had always been the one to initiate things, this time, it was no big deal for him to kiss me on the cheek, hold my hand in public, or whisper sweet nothings in my ear. I was rather proud of him for that.

"So how did your audition go today?" Logan asked.

"Nailed it!" I replied.

"That's my girl!"

I was kind of absorbed in my own thoughts. Logan said I was _his_ girl. I quite liked the sound of that. I felt my cheeks start to heat up again. He really has no idea of the effect he has on me.

"Hey, do you think we could stop by Wells Fargo on the way back? My agent just gave me a paycheck today for the last small role I had landed, and I wanted to deposit into my savings account," I said.

"Sure. No problem," Logan responded.

I detected a change in the tone of his voice though. It was so subtle that it almost wasn't noticeable. He didn't sound too pleased about something. I just wished I knew what it was. I wished he would talk to me. I frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Huh? It's nothing," Logan replied.

"Don't do that. Don't shut me out. Talk to me."

"No, really. I'm just being ridiculous."

"Come on, Logie. Spill."

Logan sighed deeply as he kept his eyes straight ahead on the road.

"It's just…out of the two of us, you're the only one who makes money. I'm the guy. I'm supposed to be the breadwinner. But Big Time Rush isn't famous enough yet for _me_ to actually make any money. It just sucks because I'm supposed to take care of you," Logan said glumly.

"You _do_ take care of me!" I retorted.

"Not financially, I don't."

"Logan, you're overreacting. It's no big deal."

"Well, it is to me!"

Logan and I didn't fight that much at all, but when we did, I hated it. Who cared who made the most money? I sure didn't. He had a very old school mindset where the guy is supposed to be the breadwinner, where the guy is supposed to take care of the girl. I was startled when Logan pulled his hand back only to put it on the steering wheel.

"Logan, don't be mad," I said.

"Who's mad? I'm not mad," Logan remarked.

"Yes you are."

"Can you blame me? You deserve better."

"Whoa! Hold on just a minute! How did we go from me wanting to deposit a paycheck to you saying that I deserve better?"

"Well, it's true. You deserve someone who can take care of you. You deserve someone who can buy you whatever you want. You deserve someone who will treat you right."

As long as I've known Logan, he's always been pessimistic. I was used to that. However, I was not used to how he was acting now. How could he not see what a catch he was? How could he think so little of himself when he was so amazing?

"Logan, you _do_ take care of me. You _do _treat me right. You're the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. If anything, I don't deserve you. I don't care about money. I'm not the Jennifers. I don't need to be spoiled," I said.

Much to my dismay, the rest of the ride to the bank was spent in silence. Logan wouldn't even look at me. He just stared out at the road in front of him. None of us said another word to one another. I wanted to, but I didn't want to make matters worse by pressing the issue further. Logan was already mad at me; I didn't want to make him madder.

We pulled into the parking lot of Wells Fargo. He undid his seat belt, and climbed out of the car before I could even undo my seat belt. The next thing I knew, he was holding my door open for me. Logan was such a sweetheart. Even though he was mad at me, he was _still_ a gentleman.

"You don't have to come in with me," I said.

I instantly regretted my words when I saw the hurt look in his eyes.

"Logan, I didn't mean it like that," I commented.

When it rained, it poured. Now _everything_ seemed to be going wrong with our relationship. Now that we had started fighting, that seemed like all we could do anymore. Logan quickly plastered a fake smile on his face; I could tell it was fake because the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry about before, Camille. I was just…well, I don't know _what _I was. Can we just forget about it? Can we just pretend it never happened in the first place?" Logan asked.

"I'm sorry too, Logan. I didn't mean that I didn't want to be seen with you. I don't think I need your help to deposit a check…"

"Oh."

"That came out wrong! You're welcome to come. Of course you're welcome to come! I…don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

One thing about Logan was that he apologized to me _a lot_. I think that trait was starting to rub off on me too because it felt like I was apologizing to him _a lot_ myself. Logan held out his hand. I placed my hand in his, and hopped out of the car. He shut the door behind me, and we walked hand-in-hand into the bank.

I was relieved to tell you the truth. Things looked a little rough there for awhile, but now we seemed to be okay; we seemed to be in a good place. We were holding hands. He didn't seem to be mad at me anymore. That hurt look in his eyes was no longer there. Logan held the front door open for me as the two of us entered the bank.

Inside, there were only six bank tellers open. There were about twenty people in line ahead of us. Logan was a pretty patient person, but I wasn't.

"Maybe we should come back another time," I suggested.

"No way. We're here now," Logan replied.

He gave me a warm smile, and I suddenly forgot what it was I had been thinking about. I tried to hide behind a veil of hair so that Logan wouldn't see that my cheeks were starting to turn a rosy color. Logan kissed the top of my head and chuckled softly.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You. It's so obvious what you're doing. You're trying to hide the fact that you're blushing. What? I'm just supposed to believe that your hair all of a sudden _just happened_ to fall over your eyes? Besides, we're holding hands, remember? I can feel your heart start to race," Logan answered.

Logan's response just made me blush even more.

What happened next no one could have ever expected. Three men wearing black ski masks and dressed in all black clothing came running into the bank armed with guns. Several gunshots echoed throughout the building.

"Camille, get down!" Logan exclaimed, pulling me down to the ground.

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. This was the sort of thing you always saw in the news but never did you ever think it could happen to you. I also couldn't help but think that this was all my fault; if I had never asked to go to the bank in the first place, this wouldn't have happened. If only I had waited to deposit my check.

Chaos erupted in the bank. People were running, screaming, and crying. I heard gunshot after gunshot being fired. I was far too scared to look to see if anyone had even been shot. From our position on the floor, Logan was using his body to shield me.

"Everybody get down on the ground now!" one of the bank robbers shouted.

"And slide all your cell phones to me! Nobody's going to be calling or texting anyone for help!" a second bank robber yelled.

Logan pulled his cell phone out of his pant pocket and slid it across the floor as did several other people. My cell phone was in my purse, but I didn't want to part with the one thing that could be responsible for me getting out of here alive.

"You! Where's your cell phone?" the third bank robber demanded, pointing his gun at me.

Logan held me in his arms as I buried my face in his shoulder and cried. I was far too frightened to even answer the bank robber.

"Put your gun down. You're scaring her," Logan said.

"Shut up!" the bank robber screamed before hitting Logan in the face with the butt of his gun.

"Logan!" I wailed as I watched in horror as he was knocked unconscious.

I gathered him in my arms, and cradled his head on my lap. I planted a kiss on his forehead. There was already a welt just beneath his left eye. It was already discolored. It was black and various shades of blue and purple. I was having a hard time breathing. My heart was racing, but this time for a much different reason. I was crying hysterically.

"This is the last time I'll ask you. Where's your cell phone?" the bank robber said.

"I don't have it! I left it in the car!" I lied.

I rocked Logan back and forth gently. I couldn't see past the haze of tears. I could still hear people crying. I could still hear their anguished screams. I could still smell the scent of freshly burnt gunpowder.

"You!" one of the bank robbers shouted, pointing his gun at presumably one of the bank tellers. My vision was so clouded by tears that I couldn't see. "Get all the money out of the drawers and put it in this bag!"

"Boss! I caught this guy trying to call 911," another bank robber announced.

One gunshot later, and I heard a body fall to the floor.

"Anyone else want to try to be a hero?" the 'boss' yelled. "Find the manager, and get him to open the safe. I want all the money in there too."

They _shot_ someone! They _killed_ someone! How many more people would be wounded or dead by the time this was all over? Were any of us going to make it out of here alive? Why were they doing this? What did they want? Money? Then, why couldn't they just take the money and leave?

Someone didn't give the robbers his cell phone like they asked, and now he was dead. It made me start to wonder if I would regret my decision to not follow their orders as well. I would be okay, right? I mean I wouldn't be stupid enough to try to talk on my cell phone in front of the bank robbers or anything like that.

As horrible as it was that Logan was unconscious, I was kind of glad. He didn't know what was going on this way. He couldn't hear the cries and screams that I still heard even when the inside of the bank was dead silent.

"You're going to be okay, Logan. We both are," I whispered to him, unsure of who I was trying to convince more: him or myself?

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just thought I would point out that this story will be written entirely from Camille's POV kind of like how my story "Til I Forget About You" was written entirely from Logan's POV. I also would like to point out that this story is rated T. It's rated T for a reason…well, a couple of reasons really…**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Not much changes in two days time, does it?**

**No Way Out**

I saw a man in a grey blazer, white dress shirt, grey dress slacks and black necktie led by one of the bank robbers to the "boss" bank robber. The man in the formal attire was middle-aged with slightly balding dark hair and thick glasses. He was a little…big-boned.

"I found the manager, boss," the bank robber said.

"Open the safe," the head bank robber ordered.

"No," the bank manager replied.

"I said open the safe!"

"Go to Hell!"

"Wrong answer!"

A gunshot echoed through the building as the head bank robber put a bullet right between the eyes of the bank manager. The poor guy was dead before he hit the floor. Several people, including myself, let out a horrified scream.

My eyes started to water once again, and I was trembling like a leaf. It's not that it was particularly cold in the bank or anything; it's just that I was so scared that I was never going to get out of here alive.

"Where's the assistant manager?" the head bank robber shouted.

"H-here," a voice said hesitantly.

A woman in her late twenties, probably fresh out of college, stood up. She had blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. I wasn't sure if her skin was naturally that white or if she was so frightened that she started to turn pale.

"Do you know the combination to the safe?" the bank robber leader asked.

"Yes," the assistant manager answered.

"Will you be a good girl, and open the safe for me?"

"S-sure."

I couldn't really blame her. She just saw what happened to her boss all because he refused to help the bank robbers. The assistant manager clearly didn't want to die. The bank robber in charge and the assistant manager left the lobby as they headed to the back where the safe was.

Except for the sound of some people sobbing, the bank was eerily quiet. I strained my ears to try to hear what was going on between the bank robber and the assistant manager. Logan was still completely oblivious to everything that was going on around him. I was surprised when I had no trouble at all hearing their discussion.

"Thank you. You've been a great help, but now I'm afraid I have no more use for you," the bank robber leader stated.

"No, please! I don't want to die!" the assistant manager shrieked.

I heard a sound that as horrible as it was, was starting to become all too familiar; the sound of a gunshot. It was immediately followed by the sound of a body falling to the floor. I couldn't believe it; three people were already dead.

As I continued to cradle Logan's head in my lap, I wondered who would be next to die. Would I be next? Would Logan? I almost didn't know what was worse; watching all these people die before my very eyes or the thought of facing death myself?

Speaking of Logan, I noticed his eyes crack open. Words couldn't even begin to describe how glad I was that he was awake; that he was okay.

"Hey there, handsome!" I commented.

"What happened?" Logan asked, groggily.

I didn't answer right away, but that's because I was worried. Did Logan have a concussion? I don't recall him hitting his head. When the bank robber pistol-whipped him, he hit Logan in the face. But then why doesn't Logan remember what happened? Was he just disoriented? Or did he really not remember?

"Camille?" Logan said, sitting up.

"One of the bank robbers hit you with the butt of his gun. Don't you remember?" I replied.

"That's what I thought. I just wanted to make sure. I guess I was hoping this was some sort of nightmare that I could wake up from."

I knew exactly what Logan meant. As much of a nightmare this had been for him, this was an even bigger nightmare for me. Logan hadn't even seen anyone die yet. He was fortunate enough to have not seen someone shot in front of him. Meanwhile, I had already witnessed three people die.

The head bank robber returned, and started pacing back and forth in front of us, his hostages. I couldn't tell if this was the first time he had done something like this before or if he was a seasoned pro. I wasn't even sure which one was worse.

On the one hand, if this was his first time, he wouldn't really know what he was doing, so that was a definite plus. But on the other hand, that makes him unpredictable, which makes him even more dangerous.

However, if he was a seasoned pro, then his actions would be a little more predictable. But whereas a rookie could possibly be talked out of holding people hostages, seasoned pros were probably much harder to convince.

"Listen up, the only way any of you are getting out of here is through those doors over there," the bank robber said, pointing his gun over by where one of his partners in crime stood. "Or those doors over there," he said pointing his gun in the direction of his other partner in crime.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn't considered making a run for it. There was something holding me back though. It just seemed way too easy. There was no way it could be as simple as the bank robber made it seem.

"Of course, there's one small problem. If _any_ of you try to escape, if any of you try to pull _anything_, you _will_ get a bullet in you. Do I make myself clear?" the bank robber asked menacingly.

A bunch of us shook our heads vigorously, probably much harder than was necessary.

"No, no, no. That will not do. I said do I make myself clear?" he repeated.

"Yes," we chorused.

It was just as I thought. I knew I couldn't just get up and walk out of here whenever I wanted to. I had a frightening thought; would I even be able to walk out of here at all when this was all over with? What about Logan?

I turned to face Logan. I gasped when I saw that his left eye had swollen shut. The welt was already much bigger than I remembered it being before. It almost looked like he had a tennis ball just beneath his eye.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It's no big deal. It probably looks worse than it feels," Logan said off-handedly.

I reached out with my hand, and barely even touched the welt on his face when he hissed in pain. I pulled my hand back like it had been burned.

"Really Camille, it's nothing. It's just a little tender. That's all," Logan said.

I didn't understand why Logan was acting like this. Was it because of me? Was he trying to seem braver and tougher than he really felt? Did he somehow think that he had to be strong for me? Did he think that he wasn't allowed to be scared?

"Are you…scared?" I asked.

"We're going to get through this, Camille. I know we will," Logan responded, wrapping his arms around me.

"You didn't answer my question."

Logan looked away. I followed his gaze and I saw that the head bank robber was watching me and Logan curiously. I didn't like the way he was looking at us. I remembered what happened to the guy who tried to call 911, the manager, and the assistant manager; a chill traveled up and down my spine.

"Well, well, well. Look who finally woke up," the bank robber said.

I noticed that Logan put his body in between me and the bank robber; he took up a protective stance in front of me. His gaze was locked on the bank robber, watching his every movement. I wasn't sure _who_ to watch; my eyes kept going back and forth from Logan and the bank robber like the two of them were having a tennis match or something.

The bank robber started to walk his way over to us. Logan rose to his feet immediately. He whispered, "Stay behind me," to me. I noticed his body start to tense up.

"Tell me; what are you willing to do to ensure your girlfriend's safety? Are you willing to take a bullet for her?" the bank robber asked.

"Yes," Logan replied without a moment's hesitation.

"Would you die for her?"

"Yes."

"Logan, no!" I screamed, standing up and putting myself in front of Logan.

As far as I was concerned, Logan wasn't going to take a bullet for me. He certainly wasn't going to die for me. If the bank robber wanted to harm me, then I was fine with that so long as he leaved Logan alone. I couldn't stomach the thought of Logan getting hurt any worse than he already had.

I could make out the sound of a helicopter flying overhead. Then, I heard the sound of approaching sirens. I felt a spark of hope. Help was on the way. We might be able to get out of here alive after all.

The phone in the bank rang. The head bank robber was clearly irritated. He angrily made his way over to the phone and picked it up.

"What?" he spat.

I wished I could tell what was being said on the other end of the phone. The only thing I could hear was what the bank robber was saying.

"If anyone and I mean _anyone_ so much as steps a foot inside this bank, I assure you that we will start shooting people!" the bank robber said before promptly hanging up the phone.

_Start_ shooting people? Did I hear that right? What do you call those three dead bodies strewn about the bank floor? He had already _started_ shooting people. Now that I think about it, that was probably why there was a helicopter flying overhead right now; that was probably why cops probably had the bank surrounded right now; someone had heard a gun being fired and dialed 911.

I also couldn't help but notice how the bank robber hadn't said how many people were behind the hostage situation. The cops probably didn't even know how many bank robbers they were dealing with.

Logan and I sat back down on the floor. The two of us both looked over at the doors like it was the brass ring; it seemed so close, yet so far away. Walking out those doors sounded simple enough. However, there were three bank robbers. It would be next to impossible to sneak out of the bank without getting noticed.

Logan held my hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze. I was kind of surprised. Throughout all of this, he had remained pretty calm. I expected the exact opposite; I expected him to be just as scared as I was. I knew why he wasn't though; he wanted to be strong for me. He wanted to be a rock for me. I don't know why he felt the need to do that though.

Just as I was about to tell Logan that it was okay if he was scared, he startled me when he said something troubling to me.

"This is my fault," Logan said.

I strongly disagreed with Logan's statement. I looked at him, and didn't like what I saw when I looked in his one unswollen eye; there was guilt, regret, and shame. Why did he feel that way? How could he possibly feel that way?

"Logan, no it's not," I replied.

"Yes it is, Camille. You wanted to leave. Had we left, we wouldn't be in this mess right now. We'd be safe back at The Palm Woods by now," Logan responded.

"There's no way you could have known something like this would happen."

"If something bad happens to you, if you get hurt, I'll never forgive myself."

I took my hand back from Logan. I placed both of my hands on either side of his face, and pressed my forehead to his, staring deeply into his beautiful brown eye. It took me a moment to remember what it was that I wanted to say to Logan.

"Logan, if anyone is to blame, it's me. I just had to deposit my check today. I just had to stop at the bank on our way back home. I just had to bank at Wells Fargo," I said.

"Camille, this isn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself," Logan replied.

"Oh, but it's okay for _you_ to blame yourself?"

"Yes because I should have listened to you, but I didn't. Now look at us."

"Will you two _shut up_?" the head bank robber remarked.

The bank robber had his gun pointed at us the whole time he stalked his way over to the two of us. He kept walking in circles around us, whistling some nameless tune. The bank robber's behavior was starting to frighten me. There were goose bumps on my arm. I couldn't figure out what it was he was about to do, and that scared me.

"Is it so much to ask that the two of you be quiet like the rest of the hostages?" the bank robber commented.

I pressed my lips together in a firm line. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan do the same thing. He was annoyed by our talking. There was no telling _how_ annoyed he was or what he would do about it.

My phone started ringing in my purse. My ring tone, "Nothing Even Matters," started playing, and I froze. This wasn't good at all.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who put this story on their favorite story list and/or their story alert list. I'd also like to thank everyone who put me on their favorite author list and/or their author alert list. Lastly, I'd like to thank everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story. You've probably heard it a million times, but your support is motivation. **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

My heart felt like it was in my throat. I could feel it pulsating in my neck. All of a sudden, it was like I forgot how to breathe. I was frozen in terror. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight on end. Every square inch of my exposed skin seemed to have goose bumps.

"Whose phone is that? I thought we had already confiscated all the phones?" the head bank robber asked.

"It's mine!" Logan exclaimed.

"Logan, no!" I yelled.

I knew that Logan was only trying to protect me, but I also knew that he was lying. It was _my_ cell phone in _my_ purse. I didn't want anyone else, especially Logan, to take the fall for me. I didn't hand over my phone when the bank robbers asked. Now, I had to deal with the consequences.

"If it's _your_ phone, then what is it doing in _her_ purse?" the bank robber in charge asked, snatching the device out of my purse.

"She must have grabbed my phone by mistake," Logan answered, his voice remarkably calm all things considered.

One of the bank robbers guarding one of the exits made his way over to us. He was slightly shorter than the head bank robber. He also didn't have an athletic build like the head bank robber did.

"He's lying, Tony. The boy slid his cell phone to us earlier. I saw him," the shorter bank robber said.

"Is that so? You know how I don't like liars. Grab him, Johnny," Tony commanded.

Johnny effortlessly pulled Logan to his feet, and held his arms behind him. Logan squirmed as he tried to break free, but it was no use. I bolted to my feet. It was kind of funny how all it took for me to be capable of locomotion was Logan being in danger. Before I could get to Logan, Tony pressed the cold steel of his handgun against Logan's face.

"No! Logan! Leave him alone!" I cried out, tears falling from my eyes.

"What's wrong…Logan…is it? Do you not like what I'm doing? Why is that? Are you…scared? Say it! Tell me you're scared!" Tony demanded.

"Why are you doing this?" Logan asked, his voice cracking.

"Tell me you're scared!"

"Please don't do this!"

"Say it!"

"I'm scared! There! Are you happy now?"

Logan was in tears now. He was shaking pretty badly. In a weird sort of way, I was actually kind of glad that Logan admitted that he was scared. I knew that he had to be scared. Even the bravest of people would be frightened in this situation. The Logan I knew was easily frightened.

I wanted to do nothing more but to get to Logan; to make him an empty promise that everything would be okay even if I wasn't sure it would be. I wanted to hold him in my arms and comfort him. But how could I? One of the bank robbers had a gun against Logan's face. If I tried anything…I couldn't even finish that thought. It was too horrible!

"Now's our chance. Run, sweetie, run!" a mother said to her five year old little boy.

The two of them made a run for the now unguarded exit. However, Tony turned his attention from Logan to the fleeing hostages, and fired his gun twice. The little boy got shot in the back of his skull. The mother got shot right in between the shoulder blades. Screams of anguish and terror filled the four walls of the bank. The body count was now up to five.

This wasn't right. That poor little boy was only five years old! He had barely even begun to live! He had his whole life ahead of him! The only comfort I took from this was that the mother and son were still together even if they weren't in the world of the living.

"Now, back to you," Tony said, turning his attention back to a restrained Logan.

"What are you going to do to me?" Logan asked.

"If you ask me boss, the worst thing you could do to him is to hurt her," Johnny said, gesturing with his head over at me.

My heart skipped a beat, and my breath hitched in my throat.

"No! Leave her alone!" Logan shrieked.

"After all, even if what this kid said _was_ true, which I know it's not, _she_ still didn't slide her cell phone to us when we asked. _She_ clearly had something up her sleeve. _She_ clearly cannot be trusted," Johnny said.

Tony menacingly pointed his gun at me now instead. Once more, it was like I couldn't get my limbs to move. My brain was telling me to move. My heart was telling me to move. However, I stood there like an idiot.

"Camille, run!" Logan shouted.

I don't know how, but somehow, Logan's yell brought me out of my stupor. I started running, but unfortunately, I wasn't able to get very far. I heard the sound of a gunshot. The next thing I knew, my leg felt like it was on fire. I collapsed to the floor, and cradled my newly injured limb.

"Camille! No!" Logan cried out.

I placed my hand over the bullet wound, and I could feel my blood seep in between my fingers. There was so much blood. Why couldn't I stop bleeding? Was I going to bleed to death? I started to panic.

"Camille, look at me. Everything's going to be okay. _You_ are going to be okay. I'll take care of you. I promise," Logan said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I was confused. Wasn't Logan being restrained by Johnny? Did they let Logan go? When did this happen? Why would they do that?

I looked at Logan. Anything so I wouldn't have to gaze at my bleeding leg. I could already _feel_ that I was losing a lot of blood; I didn't want to _see_ it too. He slipped off his light jacket, and wrapped it around my leg before tying it in a snug knot. He had blood on his hands; my blood. I didn't like the thought of that at all.

"Logan, how bad is it? Am I going to…" I started to ask before I lost my composure. "Am I going to…_die_?"

Logan was stone-faced. I wasn't sure if that was a _good_ thing or a _bad _thing. I was kind of leaning towards it being a _bad_ thing. Ever since I had known him, he had always wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. Who knew that his medical skills would be put to the test so soon?

"You're not going to die, Camille." Logan said. He sounded so sure of himself that I _almost_ believed him. I still had my doubts though. "My jacket should stop the bleeding; or at the very least, slow it down. I wish I had brought my first aid kit though. It's back in the car."

"Logan, there's no way you could have known that you would need it," I replied, reaching up and placing my hand against the side of his face.

"Still…I could treat you better if I had it. I feel like there's more I _should_ do, but I _can't_ without a first aid kit."

When I peered into Logan's one good eye, I didn't like what I saw. It looked like he felt that he had let me down. He was trying hard _not_ to frown, but I could see that he was losing that battle.

"Logan you've been amazing. You've slowed the bleeding down. You've done all you can do. All that you can do now is be there for me. Help me get through this," I said.

"I don't want to lose you, Camille. I _can't_ lose you! I don't know what I would do if…" he started to say before his emotions got the best of him. "Don't you dare die on me, okay? You hang in there."

My hand started to get damp there on Logan's cheek because he was crying. I didn't like it when Logan cried. He should never have to cry. Bad things should never happen to him or anyone he cares about. In the back of my mind, a voice was telling me that I got what I wanted; Logan was showing emotion.

Tony walked over to Logan and fired his gun again. "That's for lying to me!" he yelled.

Logan was now sprawled out on the floor. It was easy to tell where he had been shot. He was painfully clutching his shoulder, which was oozing blood. My eyes widened in horror. It was one thing for me to be shot. That I could almost deal with. But not Logan.

"Logan!" I wailed.

I wanted to touch him, to reassure him. It's just I was afraid of hurting him. I was so scared. I had never been more scared in my life before. He was just telling me that he didn't want _me_ to die on _him_. Now it was Logan that I was worried would die on _me_.

"Are you okay? Logan, talk to me," I begged, tears in my eyes.

"I'm fine," Logan said despite the fact that he was grimacing in pain and clenching his teeth.

That's when I noticed something; he wasn't moving his injured arm. It was perfectly straight. Was he not able to flex it? Was he not able to move it? Would he ever be able to use it again? I started to think of all the worst-case scenarios as fear began to take over me all over again.

"You're hurt," I commented.

"It's not that bad. He could have shot me in the head or the chest or something, but I guess I was lucky," Logan replied.

"Lucky? How is _this_ lucky?"

Logan had said that it wasn't _that_ bad. That meant it still _was_ bad. He just didn't want me to worry about it, to worry about him. How was I supposed to do that when he had a bullet in his shoulder? How was I supposed to do that when he seemed unable to move his arm? I couldn't see straight because my vision was blurred by tears.

I had an awful thought; would Logan and I be the sixth and seventh person to die here in the bank? Would Logan go before me? Or would I go before him? I wasn't sure which one was worse, to be honest.

"Can you move your arm?" I asked.

That was a stupid question to ask. If he could move his arm, then surely he would have moved it by now. The fact that he hasn't was proof enough that he couldn't. I was really starting to worry about Logan.

"No. The bullet must've pinched a nerve or something," Logan answered.

Now Logan's hand had his blood on it and my blood on it. His other arm hung there limply. There was blood coming out of his shoulder; so much blood. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to help Logan, but I had no clue where to even begin.

"Camille, I'm going to be fine," Logan said.

If Logan was able to go to the hospital, then maybe I would believe him. However, he couldn't leave the bank, and paramedics couldn't enter the bank. So Logan was stuck here. It probably wouldn't hurt for me to see a doctor either, but I wasn't worried about me right now; I was only worried about Logan.

The two of us sat there on the floor holding onto one another. Logan wrapped his good arm around me. I wrapped both of my arms around him. Now I had _his_ blood on _my_ hands. My injured leg was already starting to feel numb. It wasn't getting much circulation. I was starting to feel a little fatigued.

I didn't know how much more Logan and I could take. We already had both been shot once. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was only the beginning for us.

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I'm too much of a nobody to own anything.**

**No Way Out**

I was at a complete and utter loss about what to do. I had never been in a situation like this before. I hadn't the foggiest idea where to even begin. Logan wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. Surely he knew what to do.

"Logan, what should I do?" I asked, an edge of panic in my voice, despite my best attempts to keep it out of my voice.

"Nothing. I don't want you to get hurt anymore," Logan answered, his voice already starting to sound weaker than normal.

"That's not what I meant. I meant medically. What should I do? What should I look out for?"

"Oh. Just…keep me awake. Keep talking to me. Otherwise, I risk going into shock. And if I happen to fall asleep, I might not wake up ever again."

I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting _that_. If the floodgates behind my eyes weren't open yet, then they were now. There was an unbearable tightness in my chest that could only mean one thing: my heart was breaking. Logan was _dying_! The worst part was there was nothing I could do about it! I couldn't imagine life without Logan. I didn't want to!

This was my fault! All of this was my fault! If only I had forked over my cell phone in the beginning, then Logan and I wouldn't have bullets embedded in our bodies. Logan wouldn't be _dying_! He _lied_ to the bank robbers to protect _me_! What was I thinking? As if the bank robbers would ever just be like, 'Okay, we're going to turn our backs. When we do, go ahead and phone for help with the cell phone you aren't supposed to have.'

"He needs to go see a doctor!" I shrieked, tears stinging my eyes.

Tony laughed heartily as he walked over to me. He had a very smug expression on his face.

"Tough luck! There's tons of things that I _need_ but don't have. That's just the way the cookie crumbles," Tony commented.

"So you're just going to let him die?" I shouted.

"What do I care if he does or doesn't?"

"You monster!"

"Why thank you!"

My nostrils flared, and my temper was bubbling just beneath the surface. I clenched my hands into fists. I didn't care if he was a guy and I was a girl! Logan _needed_ to go to the hospital. I wasn't just going to sit back and do nothing! Tony hadn't ever felt the wrath of Camille before, but if he kept it up, he soon would. That's a promise!

"Camille, calm down. It's okay," Logan said softly.

"No, it's not!" I snapped back.

I instantly regretted my words when I felt him squirm out of my embrace, and drop his arm from around me.

"Aw! Is someone getting feisty? What are _you_ going to do about it?" Tony asked, poking me hard in the chest.

"Camille, don't!" Logan pleaded.

I got to my feet in record time, pulled my hand back, and slapped him hard across his masked face. The mask protected his face from some of the impact, but only moderately. I made sure he still felt the sting of my slap. I don't think I've ever slapped anyone so hard before in my life.

Tony narrowed his eyes at me. If he were a cartoon character, there would probably be steam coming out of his ears right now.

"Since that was the first time, I'll give you a free pass. Do that again, and I'll blow your brains out. Or…better yet, I'll blow your _boyfriend's_ brains out. Do I make myself clear?" he asked sinisterly.

After hearing him say that, I just wanted to slap him all the more for threatening Logan's life. However, I had to keep my emotions in check. I couldn't risk it. It was too dangerous. I didn't even know Tony, but if I learned anything about him from watching him during the bank heist, it was that he meant business, and that he wasn't a person you should cross.

"I have an even better idea! Joey, get over here," Tony said, beckoning his _other_ accomplice over to him with his hand.

Joey left the door on the other side of the building unguarded as he went over to the center of the bank where we were. I realized for the first time that I didn't really know anything about Joey. He had been pretty quiet throughout all of this. I don't think he's said or done anything yet. It's all been Tony and Johnny. That left me hopeful. Maybe there was a kink in their armor. Maybe that kink was Joey. If I could just get him to flip on them…

"What do you want, _boss_?" Joey questioned, his voice dripping with venom.

"Don't get snarky with me!" Tony retorted.

Joey shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Something was definitely up. He wasn't tight with Tony like Johnny was. I didn't know how to describe the dynamic between Tony and Joey but that's because I felt like they had no dynamic.

"How may I help you?" Joey asked, being extra polite.

"I want you to put Logan here out of his misery," Tony replied.

"Why? He's already bleeding to death!"

"Don't question me! Know your role! Or do I have to remind you of our little arrangement?"

Okay, now I was curious. What arrangement could Tony and Joey possibly have? Was Tony somehow blackmailing Joey or something? I glanced around and saw that everyone in the bank were watching the two arguing bank robbers with interest.

"When I ask you a question, you answer me! Or have you forgotten that too?" Tony remarked, spitting a nice, big green wad of spit in Joey's face.

Joey didn't so much as flinch. He didn't even bother to wipe the spit from his masked face.

"Oh, but our lovely audience doesn't know of our little arrangement, now do they? Well, perhaps we should enlighten them," Tony said, smirking.

"Tell them if you want. See if I care," Joey responded indifferently.

"Joey here has an eleven year old daughter who has a terminal illness. Hospital bills can get quite expensive nowadays. Isn't that right, Joey? I offered him a solution; help me rob a bank, and he'll get a cut of the loot more than substantial enough to cover any hospital bills. Refuse, and Joey's daughter and lovely wife will die a rather…premature…death."

Several people gasped in horror. That was terrible! That would certainly explain why Joey didn't seem like he knew what he was doing. That would account for why he and Tony didn't seem to be able to stand one another.

"Now then _Joseph_, what will it be? Kill Logan, or I pay your wife and daughter a little visit?" Tony asked.

"Leave them out of this!" Joey roared.

"Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Joey, no! There's another way!" Logan exclaimed with such fervor that it startled me.

"What are you talking about, kid?" Joey asked.

"Have you ever heard of Arthur Griffin?"

"No."

"Well, he's a super rich C.E.O. I know him. He owns the record company I am signed to. I could get him to give you all the money you would need to cover your daughter's hospital bills. He can make sure she has the best doctors and specialists money can buy. But the only way I can do that is if you spare my life."

Looking into Joey's eyes, I could see that he was seriously considering Logan's counteroffer. It was painfully obvious that Joey didn't want to kill anyone. This was a fare more peaceful solution.

"There's one small problem; disobey me, and I kill your daughter and wife. Then, there will be no one for you _to_ save, _Joseph_!" Tony interjected.

"Don't listen to him, Joey! The only way he can get to your daughter and wife is for him to leave this bank, but he can't do that, now can he? The police have this place surrounded. He steps one foot out this door, and they'll shoot him," Logan stated.

"Do you ever _shut up_?"

Tony pointed his gun at Logan's head. In a shocking turn of events, Joey raised his gun and aimed it at Tony's head. Now it was definitely clear that Joey had no sense of loyalty to Tony.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Tony commented.

"Drop your weapon, Tony!" Joey demanded.

"You're making a mistake."

"I said _drop_ your weapon!"

Tony innocently held his hands up, and lowered both of his arms. Joey lowered his weapon as well. In a crucial mistake though, he let his guard down for a fleeting moment. Unfortunately, that was all the time Tony needed. He quickly raised his gun, changing his target. One gunshot later, and Joey was lying on the floor right next to me in an ever-growing pool of blood. Screams of terror filled the room once more.

I felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness now. Joey had been our only chance. He was supposed to be our savior. Now, he had a bullet in his chest. Now he was dead. He was no good to us now. How were we ever going to get out of here now?

Everyone in the bank sat in silence. All of us were wrapped in our own thoughts. I don't know how much time passed like that. The silence was periodically broken up by the sound of someone sobbing.

I still couldn't wrap my head around what just transpired. Tony killed one of his own. Granted, Joey was never really one of his own, but still. What was to become of Joey's deathly ill daughter and wife now?

Without a doubt, Tony was ruthless. He was completely and utterly ruthless. There was no low he wouldn't sink to in order to get what he wants. He didn't care the slightest who he walked over, who he hurt in the process.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan's eyelids start to droop. I scooted over to him, and caught him before his body fell to the floor. I shook him gently. Again, I panicked. Lately, it seemed like all I knew how to do.

"Hey, Logan? You have to stay awake. Remember? Logan? Logan!" I exclaimed desperately.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I feel like a huge jerk face. I feel like it's unfair of me to ask for or expect reviews when I don't review other people's work nearly as much as I SHOULD. That point was really driven home when it came to the 2011 BTR fic awards. Looking at the nominees, I'd be like, "Who's that?" or, "I know who that is, but I've never read that story." BTR fic awards aside, I feel like there are authors who I am a fan of because I've read some of their work, but there are still some of their stories that I have yet to read and/or review. Other people are probably really great writers who write really great stories, but I don't even know because I've never even read or reviewed anything of theirs.**

**It's not that I'm not appreciative of the reviews I DO get. I'd like to think that I have a pretty good rapport with my reviewers. I try to reply to the reviews I get that aren't anonymous via review replies. I don't know. I kind of think that the reason some people choose to leave anonymous reviews is BECAUSE of my review replies. I can't help but feel like I annoy the HECK out of people with them, and so they're like, "There's NO WAY I am logging in when I review his stuff!"**

**Honestly, I don't even ASK people to review my stuff anymore. I used to, but I haven't done that in a really long time. If they do, that's great; I really sincerely appreciate it. If they don't, that's okay too. I mean 122 people have me listed as one of their favorite authors. Frankly, that's 122 more people than I deserve. I don't DESERVE to be on ANYBODY'S favorite author list. **

**The point of this author's note is to let you all know that I am seriously considering taking a hiatus from writing for an undetermined length of time. Like I said, I shouldn't be getting ANY reviews when I review so LITTLE. Who knows? Maybe REVIEWING is all I was meant to do here.**

**I know NONE of you know me personally, so I feel obligated to tell you a little more about myself in the hopes that you will understand where I'm coming from better. I'm really sensitive and emotional. Often, I get comments like, "You're overreacting!" Or, "You're taking this WAY too personally!" I'm also really analytical. Like I seriously dwell on stuff much more than I should. I'll think things like, "Why did he say that?" Or, "What did he mean by that?" Or, "This could have meant X, Y, or Z." Something else that I've learned about myself lately is that I don't handle feeling overwhelmed particularly well. Also, it's not an action/reaction kind of thing with me. That's not how I deal with my emotions at all. I tend to bottle things up rather than deal with them then and there. I rather bottle them up and push them to the back of my mind than even CONTEMPLATE getting into a confrontation over it. I use the bottle metaphor to describe how I deal with my emotions. When I have an emotional breakdown (which is VERY rare) like crying or yelling (that is the rarest; I am typically a pretty mellow guy), it's not just ONE thing that sets me off. Rather, it's an accumulation of things that have built up over time. So, while it may SEEM that one little thing set me off, it really wasn't that one little thing's fault. Like that one little thing MAY have caused the bottle to overflow, but correlation does not imply causation. That one little thing on its own wasn't nearly enough to fill up my metaphorical bottle, you know? **

**I'm just a complete and utter mess right now. NONE of you should want all of THIS as one of your favorite authors. The fact that I was nominated or won any BTR fic awards at all is a complete joke! There were FAR MORE deserving authors than me! I'm not even that good of an author! My body of work seriously pales in comparison to A LOT of other people here, and those are just the authors who I HAVE read some of their work. That's not even taking into consideration the MANY authors whose work I haven't even read yet. I mean I'm the manager of the Logan X Camille C2 Community. The freaking MANAGER! I can't even tell you the last time I've read another author's Logan/Camille story! I'm sorry if I'm such a disappointment to you now that you know that I might give up writing. I'm just…SO sorry…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for all the kind and encouraging words everyone! However, I don't think anyone really grasps what the problem is; it's not that someone flamed me in a review. The funk I'm in is no one else's fault but my own; if anyone flamed me, it was me. I'm just hyper-critical of myself. I always have been. You know that saying, "I am my own worst critic"? That DEFINITELY applies to me. I think the reason I feel like I don't deserve to be on anybody's favorite author list is because I've never been popular my whole life. Like in school, I was a loser, a loner. I only had four friends I was really tight with. That was all though. Like there were people who knew OF me, but they didn't KNOW me, you know? So, I don't know. I guess even a little popularity is a foreign concept to me. I guess you can say that I'm dealing with some personal demons. I mean there's this nagging little voice in the back of my head that's screaming at me that I don't deserve to be on anyone's favorite author list and that I didn't deserve to be nominated or win any BTR fic awards. Sometimes, obviously, I listen to that voice. I'm pretty sure that I know what the root of my problems is; I have a hunch that I have been suffering from chronic depression since 2003. When I really think about it, the last time I was GENUINELY happy was when I was a senior in high school. After that, my friends and I went our separate ways, we fell out of touch with one another, and I was back to being a loner; I was back to feeling like I didn't belong or didn't fit in. I know what you're probably thinking: if you think you have chronic depression, then why don't you get help? My answer is that it's a pride thing. Like I'm a VERY prideful person. I HATE asking for help. My co-workers at my current job can attest to that. I see asking for help as a sign of weakness. Plus, I don't want to talk to some stranger about MY problems. I don't want some stranger to pass JUDGMENT on me. I much rather deal with MY problems MYSELF, or at least TRY to. But look where THAT has got me. I don't even know WHY I'm telling you all of this. I'm usually not an open book AT ALL. I mean in the past two author's notes, I've told you A LOT about myself; stuff that MOST people don't even know about me. I guess it's because I WANT you to understand because I FEEL like you all don't really get what's going on with me based on the reviews I got after my last author's note. I think that's all I wanted to say. Now I've either done one of two things: I've either made you feel even more sympathetic towards me, or I've scared you away.**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when Logan's eyelids fluttered open. He gazed at me with his chocolate eyes that were slightly glazed over. He made like he was going to get up, but I placed the palm of my hand on his chest, and gently pushed him back down.

"What…happened?" Logan asked, groggily.

Merely hearing his voice was music to my ears. It was something that a few moments ago, I never thought I would hear ever again. I was oblivious to everything and everyone else in the bank. Right now, the only thing that mattered to me was Logan.

"It's okay. You're okay. You just passed out for a little bit. You scared me," I said, with tears in my eyes; some of those tears were tears of joy.

"I'm sorry," Logan replied, lowering his head slightly in shame.

I was gushing inside at his adorableness. I practically found every little thing he did absolutely adorable. Even stupid stuff. I guess that's what happens when you're completely enamored with someone.

"How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.

"I'm a little cold. Also, I'm kind of tired," Logan answered, his voice much softer than what I was used to.

I frowned as I looked at Logan. Since he had taken off his jacket, he was only wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt. His forearms were completely exposed. For a split second, I wondered what the thermostat in here had been set to. Then, I realized that he was probably cold because of all the blood he was losing. Come to think of it, it _was_ a little cool in here…

"What's wrong? You look sad," Logan said.

"I'm just scared, Logan," I said, before I had to stop to regain my composure. "I don't want to lose you."

Logan suddenly had a very serious look on his face. I wasn't sure that I liked his abrupt change in demeanor.

"Camille, I'm not going to make it out of here alive," Logan stated.

"Don't say that! Of course you are!" I exclaimed.

Logan shook his head.

"No, I'm not. Maybe if I could go to a hospital, then I'd have a fighting chance. We're not able to go anywhere though, are we? It's okay though. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm going to die here," Logan commented.

"Stop it! Quit talking like that!" I shouted back, my eyes filling with tears.

"It's true. I'm cold. I'm tired. I can feel myself grow weaker and weaker with every passing second. I'm going to keep losing blood until I bleed to death."

"You can't give up! What about Kendall, James, and Carlos? They're waiting for you to come back to them. What about _me_? I can't lose you! I _won't_ lose you! You're my soul mate! You're the love of my life!"

"You'll find someone else."

"I don't _want_ to find someone else! I want you! Only you!"

Great. Now Logan and I were fighting again. Here he was dying, and I was sitting here yelling at him. It's just…how could he give up so easily? I never pegged him as a quitter. But that's what he was doing now, wasn't it? Quitting.

The bank was eerily quiet. Nobody said a word. You couldn't even hear the sound of anyone sobbing. I stubbornly wasn't talking to Logan, but that's only because he wasn't exactly talking to me either. However, that didn't stop me from watching him like a hawk. I was constantly monitoring his condition.

"I'm not giving up. I'm being realistic," Logan said out of nowhere.

"Yes you are giving up! Don't you _want_ to live?" I replied.

"Of course I _want_ to live, but we can't always get what we want."

A part of me knew that Logan knew what he was talking about. After all, he was the one who wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. He would know all about this sort of stuff. However, that didn't stop me from refusing to accept that I might lose Logan.

I suddenly came up with an idea. It wasn't brilliant or anything. Actually, I had already tried it before with no such luck. Maybe I just had to keep trying until it worked. Maybe persistence and perseverance were key. I gently laid Logan on the floor before standing up. I walked over to Tony.

"If he doesn't get to the hospital soon, he'll die," I said.

"No one is leaving this place," Tony replied.

"Then at least let paramedics come inside so they could treat him."

"No one's getting in either."

"What's the matter with you? Don't you have a heart?"

"Yes, but it's a black heart."

It was pointless. I was just wasting my time. He wasn't going to let Logan go to the hospital. He wasn't going to let paramedics in. Tony could care less whether Logan lived or died. I slumped my shoulders in defeat.

As I made my way back towards Logan, I heard Tony say, "That's right, go and be a good girl and sit down."

I seriously hated that guy. That was saying something too because I didn't hate anyone. He was just so smug. He was just so pompous. He was just so arrogant. I bet without that gun of his, he wouldn't be such a tough guy.

I was worried when I saw that Logan had drifted off to sleep again. I hadn't even been gone that long. I gently shook him. No response. My heart started to speed up. I shook him again, this time with a bit more force. Still nothing.

"Logan? Come on, wake up! Please! Don't to this to me!" I cried out.

"Leave me alone. I'm tired," Logan groaned.

"I'm just doing what you asked. You told me not to let you fall asleep because you might not wake up."

"I never said that!"

My breath hitched in my throat. I really hoped Logan was just messing with me. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that he wasn't though. I looked Logan up and down and saw that his skin seemed two shades paler than normal. I also noticed a thin sheen of sweat start to form on his forehead.

"Logan, please. You _have_ to stay awake. Do you want to die?" I asked.

Using his good arm, Logan clumsily shoved me. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to die. It's just a little nap. There's no harm in that."

I was confused. I wasn't sure what to think. I had even less of an idea about what to do. I was only doing what Logan had asked me to do even though now he claims that he never said that. Was he telling the truth then? Or was he telling the truth now? Was him taking a little nap really harmless? Did I even want to risk it?

I pulled my hand back and slapped him across the face. He instantly sat up ramrod straight. Using his good hand, he massaged his sore cheek. Then, he placed his hand over his forehead, and seemed a little woozy. I quickly wrapped my arms around him, steadying him.

"Ow! What was that for?" Logan remarked.

"I couldn't let you fall asleep on me," I answered honestly.

"You know, I bet if a bunch of us rushed you all at once, there would be no way you could stop all of us," a man's voice said.

I looked across the room and saw that three male hostages had stood up. Their wives grabbed their respective husband's hands, silently pleading with them not to pull anything.

"Hmm…a challenge. I like it. Well, I bet I could stop all three of you," Tony responded.

The three guys charged towards Tony. Tony pointed his gun and fired. One of the male hostages fell to the floor, dead. Tony aimed at another oncoming hostage and pulled the trigger. A second body hit the floor. The remaining male hostage decked Tony across the jaw before he could get off a third shot.

Next, the two both had a hold of the gun and were struggling over it. I felt a swell of hope. This might actually work. I couldn't believe it. We might get out of here after all. If only the hostage could get the gun out of Tony's hand.

If it had been one-on-one, there's no telling who would have prevailed. However, we will never know because what the three male hostages who decided to bum rush Tony failed to take into consideration was Johnny. I saw Johnny rush over to help out his boss.

"Behind you!" I shouted.

But it was too late. Johnny pointed his gun and shot the third male hostage in the back. The man's eyes were wide with the horrible realization that he was dying; he had failed. A thin crimson ribbon seeped out of the corner of his mouth. He dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap.

There was blood everywhere. Pools of it were encroaching on where we were all sitting on the bank floor. There was that awful metallic smell in the air. There was blood spatter all over the ceiling, walls, floor, and counters. I wasn't even sure how many people had died since this bank heist had even started. All I knew was that too many people had already died. I had a bad feeling that a lot more people would die before this was all over. My eyes drifted to Logan.

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Let me start off by saying that I absolutely LOVED "Big Time Reality." Three guesses why. Lol. The only bad thing is that even after all that, Logan and Camille still aren't together. Anyways, in one draft I had typed up over a page where I talked about the episode, but I should probably condense that. Instead, I'll just tell you some of my favorite quotes from the episode instead. Lol. **

**Griffin: "Great news, boys!" **

**Logan: (whispering to Kendall) "The news is never great when he says that."**

**Logan: "Do you have any 3's?" **

**Camille: "Nope. Go fish!"**

**Logan: (slams his cards on the table) "That's the fifth time in a row!"**

**Kendall: "Logan and Camille have to pretend they're in love."**

**(Camera pans to Logan and Camille making out.)**

**Kendall: "Guys, the cameras are off."**

**Logan: "Oh, thank goodness!"**

**Reality Show Producer Guy: "They're on again."**

**(Logan and Camille go back to making out.)**

**James: "If you ask me, Carlos will be the one voted off. (Looks to his right. Then to his left.) (in a whisper) I think he shaves his legs."**

**Carlos: "Okay, first of all, I don't shave my legs! James does! And that's why he is going to get voted off. For having girl legs!"**

**James: "Wham!" (punches Carlos)**

**TJ: "And I think Logan will get voted off because deep down inside, he's a nerd-a-blerd-a-derd."**

**Logan: "Okay, that is not a word! And I won't get voted off because of my on-again-off-again romance with Camille. In fact, I'm thinking about breaking up with her today. Or…(whispers) maybe I won't. (in normal voice) Personally, I think James or Carlos should get voted off."**

**James: "Wham!" (he and Carlos punch Logan)**

**Camille: "How could I have been such a fool?" (slaps Logan)**

**Logan: "Not that real! Come on!"**

**Camille: (whispers) "Sorry."**

**Yeah, so this was still almost a page long. So much for that! Oh! I almost forgot! So apparently Logan isn't the only one James likes to roll around the floor with. ;) I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. Hehe. Anyways, story time!**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

Every time Logan dozed off, it seemed to be longer than the previous time. Every time I would try to wake him, it seemed to take longer than the previous time. To say that this worried me would be a huge understatement; this _terrified_ me. I don't think I could go through this ordeal without him. He was the only thing keeping me sane.

I had long since lost any and all feeling in my injured leg. Because the blood in my leg wasn't getting any circulation, it quickly grew numb. Moving it even the tiniest bit was such a chore. A shiver coursed through my body. Was it just me, or was it kind of cold in here?

I lowered my face to Logan's, and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead. Upon doing so, I was startled by how cold and clammy his forehead felt. That was when I noticed that he was shaking violently. I was so scared. It almost looked like he was having a seizure.

"Logan," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Are you okay?"

"J-just a l-little c-cold," he stuttered.

A little? By the looks of things, Logan was more than just a _little_ cold; he was freezing. I honestly don't think he could stop shivering even if he wanted to. I felt like I was to blame. If he hadn't taken off his jacket to wrap around my leg, he would at least be a little bit warmer. I went to untie his jacket.

"N-no! D-don't! Y-you n-need it or else y-you'll b-bleed out!" Logan croaked.

Leave it to Logan to be _noble_ when his own life was slipping away from him. There was a battle raging inside of me regarding what I should do. A part of me wanted to take off Logan's jacket, and wrap him up in it. If nothing else, he wouldn't be so cold. However, a part of me knew that wasn't what Logan wanted me to do. He wanted me to live. He wanted me to survive.

I was so incredibly frustrated. Logan was _dying_ in my arms, and there was _nothing_ I could do to stop that from happening. I was helpless. I was completely and utterly helpless. It made me want to pull my hair out. I started crying like I had never cried before as I began to become aware of the fact that Logan didn't have much longer to live.

Every breath Logan took seemed more difficult than the last. I pressed my forehead against his, and lost myself in his chocolate eyes. They were glazed over, and even though I was right in front of his face, he was having a tremendous amount of difficulty focusing on me. I desperately wanted to remember every facet of his eyes.

I was afraid that when we parted, I would forget all the little things about him like the shade of his gorgeous eyes, the sound of his voice, his bright smile that could light up a city, his adorable dimples, the way he rubs the back of his neck when he's nervous, the sound of him rambling when he was attempting to ask me out on a date.

I was blessed to even know Logan at all. However, I was selfish. I had only known Logan for a little over one year. I'll never forget the day he, James, Carlos, and Kendall moved into The Palm Woods. That was one of the best days of my life. As corny as it sounds, it was love at first sight. How could life be so cruel? I always envisioned Logan and I growing old and together playing Go Fish while seated in our wheelchairs at some nursing home. Never did I think that his life would come to a tragic end at sixteen years of age. He still had his whole life ahead of him. He had only just begun to live. What about his dream of becoming a doctor?

"C-Camille," Logan wheezed.

I pulled my face back just enough so that I could slip a finger over his lips.

"Shh. Save your strength," I said, my voice cracking.

Who was I kidding? How much strength could he possibly have left? I don't even remember how long ago he had been shot, but the point is that he had been losing blood this whole time. Logan feebly shook his head.

"S-survive. I l-love y-you. I'm s-sorry," Logan stuttered so softly that I had to strain my ears just to hear him.

"You _have_ to hold on! Please? For me? Just for a little while longer!" I pleaded, tears pouring down the sides of my face.

Tony moseyed his way over to us, and roughly grabbed hold of my face, forcibly turning it away from Logan. The next thing I knew, Tony's lips were crashing into mine. I was appalled. I was mortified. As soon as he was done, he had a satisfied smirk on his face. I pulled my hand back and slapped him so hard that I made sure he could feel it even under that ski mask he was wearing.

"Don't worry, Logan. I'll take _real_ good care of her while you're gone," Tony commented before chuckling to himself. "Your loss is my gain."

I was scared to make eye contact with Logan. Did he see that? Or were his eyes unable to focus enough to witness what just transpired? But surely, he heard Tony's snide little remark. Or was Logan's hearing starting to suffer now as well?

It was clear that Logan _knew_ what happened after all. I'm pretty sure I saw him ball his hands up into fists. He clenched them so tightly that I could hear his knuckles crack. I was just surprised he had that much strength left in him.

Suddenly, Tony had one hand securely wrapped around my throat, crushing my windpipes. Both my hands frantically tried to pry his hand off so I could breathe, but he was far too strong for me. In one fluid motion, he hoisted me up onto my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan's head unceremoniously bounce off the blood-stained bank floor.

With his free hand, Tony removed his gun from his holster. My eyes widened in terror when I saw him aim his weapon at a defenseless already dying Logan. Now more than ever I tried to pry Tony's hand from my neck. When he pulled the trigger, I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to watch Logan die like that. Heck, I didn't want to watch Logan die at all.

To my amazement, I didn't hear a gunshot. I hesitantly opened my eyes and blinked them in confusion. I saw Tony pull the trigger a second time. A third time. A fourth time.

"Johnny, got any ammo on you?" Tony shouted.

I looked over and saw Johnny point his gun at one of the wives of the three guys who were the most recent ones to die after having tried to play hero. He pulled the trigger, and the woman now had a bullet embedded in her forehead. Screams echoed through the bank. Everyone was crying; even the male hostages.

Johnny aimed his gun at the second wife, and pulled the trigger. She dropped dead after having been shot in the chest. How much bigger would the body count get? Would there even be any survivors when this nightmare was finally over?

Johnny pointed his gun at the third wife, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The woman and I imagine everyone else in the room breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Nope, I'm all out!" Johnny yelled back.

Finally! Maybe all the killing was mercifully over. I was starting to feel light-headed. I'm pretty sure it was because my brain wasn't getting any oxygen. My struggles became weaker and weaker as my body was tiring out, and I went longer without breathing.

"Bring me Joey's weapon then," Tony said.

That's when it dawned on me. Joey never fired a single shot with his gun. How could I have overlooked that? I watched helplessly as Johnny walked over to Joey's corpse, knelt down, and picked up the gun beside him. He then rose to his feet, and walked over to his boss, handing him the weapon.

I wanted to do so many things in that moment. I wanted to warn Logan although he could probably see that he was in mortal peril. I wanted to at least be able to tell Logan goodbye before they executed him. But more than anything, I wanted to tell Logan that I love him. He deserved to hear that one last time before he…

Tony's finger hovered precariously over the trigger. At any given moment, he could close his finger, and Logan would be a goner for sure. I had to do something. I had to stop this from happening. Not this way. Not like this.

I summoned all my strength, and kneed Tony in the groin just as he squeezed the trigger. He let go of me as he used both of his hands went straight to his man parts; including the hand that had the gun in it.

He ended up shooting himself in the foot. He hopped up and down on his uninjured foot while clutching his foot that now had a bullet in it.

"Son of a…" Tony yelled angrily.

I could finally breathe again. The air had a cooling sensation on my lungs. I placed my hands on my knees and bent over, trying to catch my breath.

"Now you've done it! I warned you about what would happen if you tried to pull anything again!" Tony shouted, his eyes darkening.

"No!" I screamed.

I couldn't really move my injured leg, so I ended up practically falling on top of Logan, but that still did the trick. I laid on top of him, using my body to shield his. That's when I noticed something. He was still. _Too_ still. I placed my ear against his chest and my heart broke when I couldn't hear anything.

With shaking hands, I frantically shook him. No response. I pulled back my hand and slapped him across the face several times in succession, but his head didn't so much as snap to the side from the impact. I lowered my face to his and kissed him, each kiss becoming increasingly more desperate. I tried to ignore the awful fact that he wasn't even able to kiss me back.

"Logan! You can't do this! Please! You can't die! Don't give up! What am I going to do without you? You can't leave me! Wake up! I need you! I love you!" I shouted, but my shouts fell upon deaf ears.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I'm so sorry. You had to have known it was coming. I mean there's a reason this whole story couldn't have been from Logan's POV. I know there's nothing I can say that will justify what I have done. Ooh! I know! I'll write a happy, funny one-shot. That will make up for it, right? Right? **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I forgot to mention a few more of my favorite quotes from "Big Time Reality."**

**(Logan whispers in Carlos' ear)**

**Carlos: "Well, we're not gonna be…"**

**(Logan whispers in Carlos' ear)**

**Carlos: "…manipulated like this."**

**(Katie pulls Logan behind her by his ear.)**

**Logan: "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! I have sensitive ears! You know that!"**

**James: "Yeah, and I rather eat pie and play video games with Carlos than maim him."**

**Logan: "Hey, I want a cool spy hat!"**

**Carlos: (whispers) "Take mine."**

**Logan: (whispers) "Okay."**

**Oh, and this is the first time I have ever killed off Logan. Some authors, who shall remain nameless, have killed Logan off much more than I have. That's right, you, and you know who you are, got thrown under the bus courtesy of yours truly. Lol. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but I kind of feel like the writers and producers listen to what we say, so ooh! Let's complain some more… ;)**

**No Way Out**

Amidst my panic, one clear thought raced through my mind: save Logan. I placed my hands on Logan's still chest, one on top of the other, and started to give him chest compressions. Each time seemed more desperate and forceful than the last. I was sobbing the whole time. I couldn't even see through the haze of tears.

After giving him I don't even know how many chest compressions, I tilted Logan's head back, pinched the bridge of his nose with my thumb and pointer finger, and attempted to breathe life into him.

"Come on, Logan! Don't you quit on me! Come back to me! Please!" I shouted at him.

Nothing. Still nothing. He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't beating. He wasn't moving. His skin had a slightly grayish tinge to it. But that wasn't going to stop me from continuing to try. I went back to chest compressions, and started the cycle all over again.

It eventually got to a point where as much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I knew in my heart of hearts that Logan was truly gone. He wasn't coming back. There was a sharp pain that resonated from my chest; it felt like my heart had literally broke in two. This revelation was staggering, and I was having difficulty breathing.

I don't know how long Tony had held us hostage, but it was now dark outside the bank. I glanced up at the wall clock and saw that it was after ten o'clock. With great effort, I hoisted the dead weight of Logan's arm up, so I could squeeze in underneath. I draped his arm around me as I snuggled up against him, silent tears streaming down my face.

I had no idea what to do anymore. I didn't know what I would say to Kendall, James, and Carlos. The mere idea of having to face them scared me to no end. I had convinced myself that they would probably hate me, and rightfully so. Thanks to me, they lost their best friend.

Lying there next to Logan, I felt like I was being suffocated by crushing guilt. This was my fault! When Logan was _alive_, he strongly disagreed with me. However, now that he wasn't, I was honestly scared that his spirit would come back to me and haunt me; blaming me for his death.

I should have waited to deposit my check, period. I should have convinced Logan to leave the bank when we saw that there was a line ahead of us. But I didn't, did I? I should have insisted. Logan usually did what I wanted him to do. Not because he didn't have a mind of his own, but because he loved me. _Loved_. Past tense. A fresh wave of grief washed over me.

Logan wasn't capable of loving me anymore. He needed to be here in order to do that, but he wasn't. Maybe if I had given him his jacket back so he could warm up, he would still be alive right now. Sure Logan was certain that had I done that, I would bleed to death, but now I didn't care. I would gladly switch places with Logan in a heartbeat.

Big Time Rush was starting to become a household name. I was still a nobody trying to become a famous actress. I was still a small fish in a big pond. Logan wanted to become a doctor. He would have been great at it too. He's great at everything he does. If not right away, then eventually due to his hard work and perseverance. Logan deserved to live more than I did.

"That's not true," a familiar voice said.

I lifted my head up and saw something truly remarkable; Logan was standing before me. But how was that possible? I was lying next to Logan; his arm was draped around me. How could he be two places at once? That's when it hit me; the Logan standing before me was transparent looking. From head to toe, it was like he was encased in a bright light.

"Logan!" I choked out.

"Remember what I said; you _have_ to survive."

"No! Not without you!"

"I may not be with you physically, but I'll always be with you."

Logan's spirit placed one of his hands on top of my chest right where my heart was. I immediately responded by placing one of my hands on top of his, but when my hand went right through his, I cried even harder.

"Right here. I'll forever be in your heart," Spirit Logan said.

"Logan, I-I…" I trailed off. There was so much I wanted to say to him; so much that I didn't get to say to him before he passed away. Now that I had a chance to speak to him, my mind was drawing a blank.

"I have to go now."

"No! You just got here! There's so much I want to tell you!"

"I'm sorry, Camille."

Then, just like that, Spirit Logan vanished before my very eyes. I snuggled up against the Logan that I could see and touch. If only this Logan could talk to me too. If only I could hear his voice. If only I could see him smile that adorable smile of his one last time.

It was a wonder I had any tears left. I had been crying practically non-stop ever since Logan…_died_. I took a moment to regain my composure. How was it even possible that a human being could cry as much as I was?

I was starting to feel a little bit tired, but honestly, I was scared of falling asleep. Logan had been worried about falling asleep, and look what happened when he did; he won't ever wake up again. What if I fell asleep and didn't wake up?

The more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that that wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing. I mean, at least I'd be able to be with Logan again. That would certainly make it all worth it. I would give anything to be able to see him again. To hear his voice. To hold his hands in mine.

Only one thing was holding me back from wanting that too much; Logan's plea to me before he breathed his last breath. _Survive_. Logan wanted me to survive. He wanted me to live. How though? I cared about Logan _so_ much; I loved him, and now that he's gone, it seems like a part of me is missing.

I felt like if I died, all of Logan's efforts would have been in vain. Logan probably knew that he would die quicker if he wasn't kept warm. He probably knew that his jacket would keep him alive a little longer. However, because it was securely fastened around my leg, it wasn't an option. Logan didn't want me to bleed to death, even if it meant he would pass away sooner. That's the kind of guy Logan was; selfless. He always put other people's needs before his own, no matter the consequences.

My eyelids were starting to get heavy. It almost seemed like they had sandbags on top of them. I let out a yawn. I still couldn't feel my injured leg. The only way I could tell that it was even still there was by looking at it.

Another reason I was scared to fall asleep was because I was afraid that when I woke up, Logan wouldn't be there anymore. I was worried that we would get separated more than we already were. I was frightened that I wouldn't wake up next to Logan. I mean I know I'm probably being silly. Even though he still smelled like Logan, even though he still looked like Logan, even though he still felt like Logan, the guy with his arm draped around me _wasn't_ Logan. Not really. It was just his body.

Now that I'm all the wiser, I wished that I could go back in time. If only there was such a thing as a time machine. I would never have gone to the bank today. I would have waited until tomorrow to deposit my check. How horrible is that? I lost Logan because I was more concerned about money. Looking back, if I was given a choice between all the money in the world and Logan, I would choose Logan each and every time without even a moment's hesitation. You couldn't put a dollar amount on Logan; you couldn't put a dollar amount on true love.

Logan's blood was on my hands; literally and figuratively. His blood was smeared all over the side of my face. It had long since gotten hard and crusty as it was caked on the side of my face. He wasn't bleeding anymore. Of course, how could he? He would need to be alive in order to be bleeding; his heart would need to be beating in order for him to be bleeding, and it definitely wasn't…

I don't think I will ever smile again. I have no reason to ever smile again. A life without Logan is certainly nothing to smile about. The frown I was currently wearing would probably soon be a permanent fixture on my face. I didn't care though. I turned my head slightly so that I was face-to-face with Logan. He wasn't smiling either, but he also wasn't frowning.

He looked so peaceful lying there. It was almost as if he were sleeping, but deep down, I knew better. I knew that he wouldn't wake up any second now because he wasn't sleeping, he was…_dead_. I don't think I'll ever get used to saying that or thinking that. It's just too hard. It's far too sad. It makes me lose all desire to live myself.

_Survive. _

I nodded my head even though Logan couldn't see me. Actually, he probably _could_ see me. He was most likely watching over me up in Heaven. There was no doubt in my mind that Logan was in Heaven. He was an angel now just like he was an angel when he was on Earth. He was so sweet and innocent. He never did anything wrong, and even if he did, it wasn't _his_ idea to begin with. He was just far too kind, far too considerate to say "no" to people. That wasn't his fault though.

Out of the blue, I felt an intense surge of jealousy come over me. God didn't deserve Logan more than me! He didn't deserve Logan more than Kendall, James, or Carlos! We wanted him here with us where he belonged! It just wasn't fair! It wasn't Logan's time to go! There's no way it could have been his time to go! My eyes stung with tears, and I felt my hands clench the soft material of Logan's t-shirt as they balled into fists.

My body shook with sobs. I couldn't stop crying even if I wanted to. That's the thing; I didn't _want_ to. Logan's passing was a tragedy. It wasn't wrong that I was crying. It would be wrong if I didn't shed a single tear. I had good reason to mourn. I kind of felt like the moment I stopped crying was the moment where I stopped missing Logan. I didn't want to stop missing Logan. I would never stop missing Logan.

"You want to be reunited with your boyfriend? I can help you," Johnny said.

I looked up, and through my cloudy vision, I could make out a figure standing over me with what I presumed was a gun pointed at me. I probably should have been scared, but in all actuality, I was…hopeful. This could be it! I might see Logan sooner than I think after all.

"All you have to do is give me the word," Johnny stated.

I heard another pair of footsteps approaching, and I soon saw another figure stand in between me and the figure that I'm sure was Johnny.

"What are you doing?" Tony's voice demanded.

"I'm just offering to give her what she wants," Johnny answered.

"We need her alive!"

"Why? What is it with you and this girl?"

"Do not question me! Have you forgotten who's in charge here? I'm telling you to stand down, so you better stand down!"

I blinked my tear-filled eyes in confusion. _We need her alive!_ Was Tony…_protecting_ me? What possible reason could he have for protecting me? What did he mean when he said that he needed me alive? What other plans did he have for me?

"If I refuse?" Johnny asked.

"Then you're going to have to go through me in order to get to her, and there is _no way_ you're getting through me!" Tony replied.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I didn't really like how this chapter turned out. But, on the plus side, I got my copy of Big Time Rush Season 1: Volume 1 in the mail yesterday! Even better, tonight is the Kid's Choice Awards! I have to work tonight though. Boo! I'm going to be recording it on my DVR though. I can't wait to see BTR perform, and I really hope they win both awards they're nominated for! I just hope they don't perform "Boyfriend" because that's the only song they play anymore on Nickelodeon during commercial breaks or whatever, and it's getting a bit played out in my opinion. Besides, there are other songs on the album that I like way more than "Boyfriend." Just saying…**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: BTR got robbed at the KCAs! End of story. Yeah, and um I just love how a lot of you spoiled the KCAs for me. Thanks to you, I practically had no reason to watch the KCAs on my DVR. Anyways, now I'm kinda sad. I'm giving serious thought to starting "Doppelganger" just so I can take it out on Logan by torturing him. Maybe that will make me feel better…I really should come up with a better coping mechanism. I mean poor Logan. I already killed him in this story, and now I want to torture him in "Doppelganger." **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Logan Henderson is really glad about this too…**

**No Way Out**

"So, what will it be Johnny boy?" Tony asked.

I could tell that Johnny was conflicted about what to do. The room was engulfed in silence as everyone, Tony included, eagerly awaited Johnny's response. Even though Johnny wasn't as much of a monster as Tony, I don't think I could stand someone else dying after all the death I had already seen; after I had lost Logan.

"My apologies, boss," Johnny said, lowering the gun.

Tony walked over to Johnny and patted his cheek condescendingly. Johnny didn't look very pleased, but he kept silent.

"Good boy," Tony commented.

I won't lie; a part of me was hoping that Johnny would kill Tony because Tony seemed like the greater of two evils. A part of me felt like I shouldn't hope for anything anymore though. I mean what was the point? I was never going to get out of the bank unless it was in a body bag.

Then, a thought occurred to me; there _was_ a way out of the bank after all. Escaping the bank revolved around one thing; gaining possession of the gun. With it, I could do one of two things: one, I could kill Tony and Johnny so I could escape, or two, I could use the gun on myself before Tony or Johnny had a chance to.

"No, Camille! Stop it!" Logan's spirit exclaimed, appearing before me once again.

"Why? I want to be with you! What's so wrong with that?" I shouted.

I barely noticed that Tony, Johnny, and the surviving hostages were all staring at me with wide eyes. Did they not see Logan too? He was standing right in front of me. Did they think I was seeing things? Did they think I was crazy?

"It's too dangerous! Besides, I told you to survive," Spirit Logan said.

"Well, I told you not to die on me, but you did anyways!" I retorted.

Yet again, my eyes filled with tears. I had been crying so much that my eyes were irritated. No doubt they were red and puffy. Didn't Spirit Logan understand that a life without him wasn't a life I wanted to live?

"I held on as long as I could. I'm not immortal, nor am I invincible," Spirit Logan stated.

It was strange. Spirit Logan didn't seem to be mad at me. Then again, he was an angel, and I don't think angels were capable of anger. His voice was perfectly calm. He wasn't even so much as frowning.

I felt kind of bad. Here I was yelling at him for dying on me when I knew that he fought as long as he possibly could. Logan was right; he was only human. He wasn't indestructible.

"Logan, I just want to be with you. So either come back to me, or I'll come to you," I said.

"I want to be with you too, but I can't come back to you. While I want very much to see you, to be with you, I don't want you taking your own life or putting yourself in harm's way just so that it will happen," Logan replied.

"Why is it all about what _you_ want? What about what _I_ want?"

"You're right. You're absolutely right. I _want_ you to be safe. I _want_ you to survive. However, I can't stop you from taking your own life if you _want_ to. I can't stop you from doing something completely reckless and stupid. Even if I hope that you don't."

I didn't know what to do anymore. Everything had happened so fast. I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around it all. I didn't really _want_ to die, but I didn't really _want_ to live without Logan either. At the same time, I _wanted_ to honor Logan's dying wish that I survive. But how could I possibly survive something like this? How could anyone survive something like this? Even if we made it out of here alive, would we ever _really_ be the same? I think not. Far too much has happened, and that has changed each and every one of us forever.

Spirit Logan started to fade away once more. No! Not again! I tried to stand up, but my injured leg just wasn't cooperating with me, and I threw my arms out in front of me to break my fall.

"Logan, no! Don't go!" I shouted, but he was already gone again. "Please don't go!"

"See? She's bonkers!" Johnny commented, gesturing towards me with his head. "Hearing voices in her head and seeing things the rest of us don't see."

Much to my terror, Tony knelt down beside me, and reached his hand out toward me. I immediately scooted away from him. He kept drawing nearer, and I kept scooting away from him until I could scoot no further; my back was up against the counter. I held my breath as he placed his hand on the side of my face, and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"There, there, beautiful. As long as you do what I say, I won't be forced to blow your pretty little brains out," Tony said in a sickly sweet voice.

Then, he caught me off guard when his lips suddenly crashed into mine. He now had a firm hold of my head; a hand on each of my cheeks. His lips were chapped. The way he was kissing me was rough and clearly not consensual. I squirmed and thrashed as much as I could. He responded by using his body to pin mine against the counter, restricting any movement. It seemed like the more I squirmed, the rougher the kiss became.

At long last, he broke off the kiss. He had a satisfied smirk on his face. I pulled back my hand to slap him, but he must have been anticipating that, as he grabbed my hand, and then he bent my fingers back so fast and so hard that I heard a cracking sound. My wrist instantly felt like it was on fire, and I cradled my injured hand against my chest, tears prickling my eyes.

"Try that again, and you'll have to deal with a lot more than a broken wrist!" Tony warned.

Using my one good wrist, I drew my knees to my chest, placed my face on my knees, and wept. I know that I didn't kiss Tony, but it still felt like I had betrayed Logan. I felt awful. My wrist was burning. I couldn't feel my injured leg. My heart still ached. Worst of all, I kept muttering _Forgive me, Logan_ under my breath over and over again.

"Grab the bag of money, and trade me guns," Tony said to Johnny.

"Why? What's going on? Where are we going?" Johnny asked, as he gave Tony the gun that still had bullets in it.

"Don't ask questions, just do it! That information is on a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know!"

Soon, Tony pulled me to my feet roughly, and I could feel cold steel pressed against my head. I heard a clicking noise. With his free arm, he had a tight grip on my upper arm; so tight that his grip was quite painful.

"Move!" Tony ordered.

I did as he asked. I glanced over my shoulder at Johnny who was trailing behind. That's when I saw Logan's dead body lying on the bank floor. I futilely tried to get to him.

"No! I can't leave him! Logan!" I shouted.

"Forget about him! He's dead! There's nothing you can do for him! Now move!" Tony screamed.

My feet were moving, and I guessed that I was going where Tony wanted me to. I couldn't really tell because I never took my eyes off Logan. I blinked back tears as best as I could. How could Tony do this to me? How could he separate me from Logan?

I was barely aware of the fact that the three of us were now outside the bank for the first time in I don't even know how long. With the exception of street lamps and traffic lights, it was pitch-black outside. It was a new moon. Even the myriad stars in the sky didn't seem to provide the amount of light they usually do.

"Let go of the girl now!" a detective said, speaking through a megaphone.

Tony squeezed my arm even tighter making sure that the authorities could see what his response was. The action caused me such great pain that I squeezed my eyes shut briefly.

"Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads!" the detective ordered.

"You want to shoot me? Then shoot me! It would be a shame though if you accidentally shot and killed this girl! See, if you ask me, that's a risk you're not willing to take because you're weak. You don't have the guts," Tony said as he was inching his way towards what I guessed was the getaway car.

He opened the driver's side door, and climbed in first, using me as a human shield the whole time. Then, he pulled me inside the car. At first, I was sitting on his lap, but then, he shoved me into the passenger side.

Johnny opened one of the back doors, but he never made it inside. The cops opened fire on him. I screamed in horror as I watched the cops execute Johnny before my very eyes. They must have shot him a total of six times, and every shot was a shot designed to kill. He was shot in the chest three times, and he was shot in the head three times.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and braced myself for the inevitable. After all, Tony still had his gun pressed up against my skull. However, after waiting with bated breath, I realized that I was still alive. Tony started the car, and sped off.

I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw the police scramble into their squad cars, turn their sirens on, and speed off after us. I couldn't believe it. What started as a bank robbery had now turned into a high speed chase. I finally realized what my role was in all this: I was Tony's hostage, his insurance policy. As long as he had me, he would ensure that he would survive that much longer.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, terrified.

"Shut up!" Tony shouted back at me.

"Slow down! You're going to get us both killed!"

"I said shut up!"

Tony kept shaking his head for no apparent reason. If I didn't know any better, I would say that he was panicking. Getting into a high-speed car chase evidently wasn't part of his original plan. Neither was his partner-in-crime getting massacred, and thereby losing the stash of money they went to the bank in the first place for.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," Tony said I think more to himself than to me. "We were supposed to be in and out just like that."

"Look, just pull over and turn yourself in," I stated.

He cast a sideways glance at me. "Johnny was right; you really are nuts!"

Maybe I was starting to suffer from Stockholm syndrome, but I actually felt bad for Tony. The way he talked about Johnny, the tone of his voice, I could tell that he already missed him. I could tell the two of them were very close. Ironically, the way he talked about Johnny was similar to the way I talked about Logan.

"Why didn't you kill me like you killed the others?" I asked, strangely not as afraid as I had been a few moments ago.

Tony shrugged his shoulders, but kept his eyes on the road ahead of him. In a weird sort of way, I actually felt…_gratitude_…towards Tony for sparing my life. I mean if he wanted me dead, then I would be dead by now, right? Yet I was still alive, but why?

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry about your boyfriend. I didn't mean for him to die. I shot him, but it wasn't supposed to be a mortal wound. It was just supposed to serve as a warning. I…I can tell that you really loved him," Tony said.

I couldn't figure Tony out at all. He took a bank hostage. He shot me. He killed Logan. He took me hostage as he fled the bank. He apologized to me for killing Logan. He, for a reason unknown to me, has no real desire to kill me.

I was conflicted. A part of me wanted to believe that he really was sorry for his actions; that there was actually some good somewhere inside of him. The rest of me thought he was nothing but a cold, callous, calculating, heartless monster. It was almost like I was dealing with Jekyll and Hyde. The real question was: in the struggle for dominance, which side was winning now?

To Be Continued…


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**No Way Out**

I blinked my eyes in confusion as I took in my surroundings. I could smell the salty ocean water. I could hear the seagulls cawing as they flew overhead. I could hear the ebb and flow of waves as they crashed into the shoreline. I could feel the sand between my toes. I could see miles and miles of white sand.

I was at a beach. That much I could gather. But where was this beach exactly? How did I get here? Why wasn't anyone else at the beach? It was completely deserted. Where was Tony? Last I remember, he had taken me hostage and we were involved in a high speed chase as we fled from the police. Had I fallen asleep? Was this some sort of dream?

Then I saw him standing there. I could hardly believe it. Logan. This seemed too good to be true. I had to be seeing things. There was no way that that was Logan. He was dead. So that had to be some sort of mirage. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I was convinced of one of two things: either I was dreaming, or I was dead. Those were the only two ways I could possibly be seeing Logan right now.

He turned and flashed his trademark smile at me. Inside my chest, my heart soared. My eyes filled with tears. I never thought I would ever see him again, yet here he was several feet away from me smiling at me.

I started running towards him. One way or the other, I had to know. Was he real? Or was I seeing things? He certainly looked real. Logan seemed to be there in the flesh. He wasn't transparent like he was when he appeared at the bank.

I threw my arms around him as soon as he was within my reach. He was startled at first, but then he returned my embrace. He already _looked_ real. Now that I was hugging him, I could tell that he also _felt_ real. I took in his scent that was distinctly Logan. He _smelled_ real too.

"Are you okay? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" he asked, chuckling lightly.

He certainly _sounded_ real too. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I forgot what it was that he had asked me in the first place. There was still one sense I had yet to explore. I puckered my lips, reached up, and captured his lips in mine. Yep. Just as I thought; he _tasted_ real too.

I was breathless after I had to break off the kiss. I was huffing and puffing, but I had a huge, ridiculous smile on my face that stretched from ear to ear. I didn't really think anything of Logan not kissing me back. It wasn't exactly anything out of the ordinary. After all, I was usually the one who initiated kisses between us anyways.

"Seriously Camille, is something the matter?" Logan asked, as he placed his hand on my forehead to check if I had a fever. "You don't feel sick to me."

"It's just that I'm so stoked right now! I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that it's really you!" I replied.

Logan cocked his head to the side as he had a puzzled expression on his face.

"Of course it's really me. Who else would I be?" Logan asked.

"It's just that I watched you die back at the bank…" I trailed off.

"What bank? What do you mean you watched me die? What are you talking about?"

No! No, no, no! This wasn't happening! For the first time since I had seen Logan at the beach, I was…_scared_. What if he wasn't real after all? What if this was some sort of dream? Or worse, a nightmare? Why was Logan acting like he didn't know what I was talking about? Or was the whole ordeal at the bank some sort of nightmare, and _this_ was my reality?

Logan gently took my hand and placed it on his chest right on top of his heart. I could feel it beating beneath my hand. It had a nice, strong rhythm to it.

"Feel that? If I'm dead, then how do you explain that?" Logan questioned.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to blink back my tears so that I could see Logan. As long as I could see him, I knew that he was there.

"Please don't cry," he said, as he placed a hand against the side of my face, and wiped a tear away with his thumb.

"These aren't _sad_ tears; they're tears of joy!" I responded.

He pulled me in for a hug. He planted a kiss on the top of my head. I rested my head against his shoulder. Oh, how I had missed this! Logan holding me in his arms felt so right! I wanted to stay in his arms forever.

"I thought I had lost you. I didn't know what I was supposed to do without you," I said.

Logan pulled back, and held me at arm's length.

"But I was right here. Are you _sure_ you're feeling okay today? You're acting really weird," Logan commented.

It was ironic because I could say the same thing about him. However, I chose to hold my tongue. I was reunited with Logan once again. Nothing else even mattered.

"Where is _here_ exactly?" I asked.

"The beach," Logan answered as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

I had this weird feeling that something wasn't quite right. Why weren't there any other people at the beach? What did Logan mean by "But I was right here"? Why was he acting like I was making all this up? Surely, he had to have remembered what happened at the bank! Wait a second. The bank! Could it be? Was it even _possible_? Did Logan ever really die in the first place? Maybe he had survived after all, and took me to a beach somewhere apparently…

"Penny for your thoughts," Logan commented.

I cleared my mind by shaking my head.

"It's nothing," I replied.

"You know that if something's bothering you, you can talk to me, right? No matter what it is. No judgment. Plus, I'm a really good listener," Logan said.

So I told Logan everything about what had happened at the bank. I told him how he had been shot in the shoulder. I told him how I had watched him die before my very eyes. I told him how I watched him breathe his last breath. I told him what happened after he had died. I told him that the last thing I remembered before the beach was Tony taking me hostage and being involved in a high speed chase. The whole time it was very strange because it was like I was telling him something that he should already know.

"That sounds like a really horrible nightmare," he said after I finished telling my tale.

Was it a nightmare though? Had I really dreamt all that up? I was so confused. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Maybe Logan was right; maybe that all was just a dream. Heck, maybe I'm dreaming still! Who's to say?

"Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked.

"No. I _know_ you're crazy. It's one of the many things I love about you, and I wouldn't have it any other way," Logan replied before giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

Even though his romantic gesture only lasted a fraction of a second, I was swooning. In fact, Logan had to grab hold of my arm to keep me on my feet. Inside, his kiss had caused me to melt; it had reduced me to a puddle.

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something? Maybe you caught a bug or something. I mean you haven't been yourself lately. Not to mention how you just about fainted on me a few seconds ago…" Logan stated, counting the reasons on his fingers.

"You worry too much," I remarked.

"Okay, well I'm going to keep an eye on you just in case."

Logan held out his hand, palm up. I placed my hand in his, and our fingers intertwined. I got such a rush over the fact that we were holding hands. This was something that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to do with Logan again.

"Walk with me?" Logan asked.

I nodded my head. The two of us walked hand-in-hand along the shore of the beach. I felt the cool water lap against my ankles. I could feel a cool breeze against my face. I could feel the rays of the sun warm me. It really was a gorgeous day.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Logan inquired.

"What is?" I replied.

"That we're together."

Was he trying to tell me something by that comment, or was it just my imagination? I mean maybe I was just being paranoid, but I took that to mean that we weren't _really_ together right now. That begged the question though, if we weren't really together, then what was this?

"I mean really, how long did you like me before I even realized it? Looking back, I can't believe I was such an idiot," Logan elaborated.

I frowned. I didn't like it when Logan talked about himself like that. I breathed a small sigh of relief when he didn't seem to notice that I was frowning. Just to be sure, I plastered a fake smile on my face and chuckled lightly.

"I think I first realized that I liked you when you guys were trying to get the ultra teen crib built in Apartment 2J instead of Rocque Records. I remember hearing your uncanny Griffin impression. I think you first realized that I liked you when the 'Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood' threw their first party," I answered.

Logan laughed. His laugh was contagious as I soon found myself laughing with him. He really did have an adorable laugh. Heck, practically everything about him was adorable. How did I get so lucky as to end up with Logan?

"Yeah, I don't ever think I'll forget you and Mercedes tossing me into the pool," Logan remarked.

"Good times," I said.

Logan shoved me playfully. "Yeah, maybe for you."

"Well, you were saying that you were hot. Mercedes and I thought you needed to be cooled off."

I remembered being so mad at Logan that night. After all, he was such a player that night; trying to date me and Mercedes at the same time. He almost managed to pull it off too, but we caught him red-handed. I recalled not talking him for a week afterwards. That was the most difficult week of my life. I wasn't sure who was punished more: me or Logan?

I felt myself being pulled out into the ocean water. Logan grabbed hold of me, and tossed me into the water. I resurfaced, and glared at a grinning Logan. My jaw had dropped. I couldn't believe he had just done that.

I splashed him with water. He splashed me back. We soon were engaged in a full-on splash fight, laughing the whole time. Then we both started to trying to dunk one another. This was the most fun I've had in I don't even remember how long.

After we were both thoroughly soaked and slightly fatigued, we both got out of the water. Logan pulled his wet t-shirt over his head, and the two of us laid down on the sandy beach to dry off. I snuggled against Logan, resting my head on his chest. My ear was directly above his heart; I just had to have a reminder that Logan's heart was still beating; that he was still alive.

"I love you, Camille. You know that, right?" Logan asked.

"Of course I do. And I love you too," I responded.

We locked eyes with one another, and stared at each other longingly. My heart was beating so loud and fast that I was convinced Logan could hear it as well. I could see the adoration and unadulterated love in his captivating chocolate eyes. He really had no idea of the effect he had on me.

"Camille, can I ask you something?" Logan questioned.

"Always," I answered.

"Why do you love me?"

I was caught off guard by his question because it was the last thing I expected him to ask me. Was he for real? He had to be kidding, right? I wanted very much to believe that he was just joking with me, but looking into his eyes, I saw that wasn't the case. He was genuinely curious.

"I mean surely you can do better. I'm nobody special. I'm smart, but that's about all I have going for me. I'm painfully shy and socially awkward. I'm not tall, dark, and handsome. Don't you want a Prince Charming?" Logan asked.

I sat up and stared at Logan incredulously, my cheeks heating up as my eyes roamed his half-naked form. His face. I needed to look at his face instead. So I did. Nope. Still blushing…

"Logan, you _are_ my Prince Charming! Don't you realize that? You don't give yourself enough credit. There's way more to you than just your brains. You're an incredibly talented singer. You're so sweet, caring, kind, generous, compassionate, and loyal. You have a good head on your shoulders. You may not see yourself as handsome, but I think you are gorgeous. You're quirky, but I love all of your quirks. They're so adorable. You're so amazingly selfless. You have the most unbelievable smile. I could go on if you still don't believe me, but I hope you get my point," I said.

"Wake up," Logan told me.

"What?"

"Wake up!"

That was odd. It didn't sound like Logan's voice that time. But how could that be? I was just on the beach with Logan. Besides the two of us, it had been completely deserted. I cracked my eyes open and found myself back in the getaway car with Tony.

"We're at a motel. We're going to stay here for the night, so get out of the car," Tony commanded.

But wait a second. Where were the police? Hadn't we been in a high speed car chase? I was so confused. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, I was thrown another curveball. My vision was clouded by tears as reality crashed into me; Logan really was dead after all.

To Be Continued…


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: For those of you interested, you can find me on Tumblr. I'm fishstickfriday on Tumblr**** if you want to follow me, which no one probably does because my page is lame. I only joined so I could follow my fan fiction wife. I didn't actually want to…partake…Stupid peer pressure…**

**Disclaimer: Yep. Still own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

I could hear Tony snoring from the other bed. There were two full-size beds in our hotel room. At least he didn't insist on sharing a bed with me. I couldn't sleep. I _wanted_ to sleep, but I couldn't. I didn't want to dream that I was with Logan again only to wake up and find that I wasn't. I couldn't take that crushing reality again.

I dangled my feet over the side of the bed, and started tiptoeing my way over to Tony. He had his gun held against his chest as he slept. My eyes watched him anxiously, half-expecting him to hear me moving about. My heart pounded violently in my chest. My breathing was quick and ragged. My hands were shaking.

I was now standing over him. I reached out towards him, and had my hand on top of his gun. I slowly started to pull it out from underneath him. When he fidgeted, and rolled over on his side, I squeezed my eyes shut, fearful that he would wake up and do something bad to me.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I once again heard him snoring. I tiptoed over to the other side of the bed. Once more, I started to tug the gun from his grasp; a little quicker this time. Nothing. He didn't fidget. He didn't stir. For all I know, he didn't even notice what I was doing.

It felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders when I finally had possession of the weapon. I opened my mouth wide, and placed the gun in it with trembling hands. I could feel the cold steel on my tongue. I could hear the firearm clatter against my teeth.

"Camille, stop it!" a familiar voice said to me.

I looked in front of me, and there stood Spirit Logan once more. In two quick strides, he was right beside me. He placed his hand on top of the hand I was using to hold the gun. My eyes filled with tears when I couldn't even feel his hand on mine; I could see it, but I couldn't feel it.

"I can't do this anymore, Logan! I'm sorry, but I can't! I miss you way too much! My heart aches way too much!" I sobbed.

"Camille, think of all the people you'd be leaving behind; people who care about you; people who love you. Would you really want to put them through so much pain if you could avoid it?" Spirit Logan asked.

"Did you think about the people you'd be leaving behind when you died? The people who cared about and loved you?"

"That's not fair, Camille. I didn't have a choice when I died. You do."

"Exactly, and I'm _choosing_ to be with you! Isn't that what you want too?"

"Of course, I do! Just…not like _this_."

He cupped my face with his transparent hands; one hand on each of my cheeks. I placed my hands on top of his, but they ghosted right through them, making me cry even harder. How I longed to be able to touch him again. How I wanted so desperately to be with the _real_ Logan instead of Spirit Logan.

In a bizarre turn of events, my surroundings suddenly changed. I found myself back at the bank. Why did Logan take me here? What did he want to show me? I soon found the answer to that when I saw Kendall, James, Carlos, and Jo. They were kneeling down next to a body that had a white sheet draped over it. My breath hitched in my throat. I had a feeling I knew who was under that sheet.

"No, don't!" I called out.

Nothing. It was like they couldn't hear me. Why couldn't they hear me? Was I really not at the bank? What was going on here? I turned my head and looked at Spirit Logan.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded.

"I wanted to show you something. Never mind me; just watch," Spirit Logan answered.

I turned my head back to the grim scene before me. Kendall had pulled the sheet back revealing Logan's head and torso. I heard Carlos let out a whimper as he buried his face in James' chest and sobbed. James himself had tears cascading down his face. Jo turned away, unable to look anymore. Kendall wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head on her shoulder. I think I actually heard Kendall sniffling too.

"This isn't real! That can't be him! That can't be Logan!" Carlos cried out.

James wrapped his arms protectively around Carlos. His eyes were glued to Logan. It was like he was expecting him to open his eyes and sit up any second now. Like this was all some sort of sick practical joke. James knew just as well as I did that Logan would never play such a cruel joke on anyone.

"Where's Camille? Logan went to pick her up from her audition. If Logan's here, then where…" Jo said softly.

"I don't know, Jo. I don't know," Kendall said, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

"She wasn't outside with the other survivors," James stated.

I started to understand why Spirit Logan had brought me here; he wanted me to see how much the others would miss me. He wanted to show me that I couldn't leave them behind too.

"Maybe she escaped," Carlos suggested, hopefully.

"That doesn't make sense. Why would she leave Logan behind? Besides, even if she had escaped, why isn't she answering her phone? I already tried calling her countless times," Jo said.

I gasped in horror. I thought back to when my phone went off before when I wasn't even supposed to have it in the first place. That's where everything started to go downhill real quick. If it wasn't for that call, I wouldn't have been shot, and neither would…Logan still could have been alive. He lied for me. He tried to protect me. Because of that, he…

I clenched my hands into fists. I was practically shaking with rage. I couldn't even look at Jo the same way anymore. This was all her fault! If she had never called me…How could she do this to me? To Logan? Does she have any idea what happened because of her? Does she even care?

"Of course she cares. She had no idea this would happen, Camille. I know you're really upset, and you want to blame as many people as you can for what happened, but this wasn't Jo's fault. She didn't shoot you. She didn't shoot me. She only called because she was worried about you; because she was wondering where you were. She called because she cared about you. She still does. It would have been worse if she didn't call you at all. Don't you think?" Spirit Logan asked me.

"No! Hmm…you dying or you being alive? I think I much rather have you alive! Will you stop reading my mind? My thoughts are my own!" I shouted at Spirit Logan.

"You're her best friend. Once upon a time, she was your best friend too. If you want to blame somebody, why don't you blame me? I didn't _have_ to take you to the bank when I did. I _could have_ left the bank when you wanted to, but I didn't. If you think about it that way, it's my fault that you got shot. It's my fault that I got shot. It's my fault that I…" Spirit Logan started to say.

"Don't! Don't you dare finish that sentence! Don't you even think it! It's not your fault that I got shot! It's not your fault that you got shot either! You're being ridiculous!"

"So are you! If it's ridiculous that this all was my fault, then how is it not ridiculous that this is all Jo's fault?"

"Why are you defending her? After what she did to you…"

"That's just it, Camille! She didn't _do_ anything to me! Honestly, I'd hate to see you lose your friendship with her over something that was no one's fault to begin with."

I dramatically turned my head away from Spirit Logan. I knew he was right deep down. He was _always_ right, and I hated it. I just…I wanted Logan back in the land of the living. Was that so wrong? My vision clouded with tears. I was so confused. How could I even be crying if I wasn't really at the bank in the first place? I had no clue where I was. Was I dreaming? Was I in Heaven? But how could I be in Heaven if I was still alive? Unless I really did pull the trigger…

"You didn't pull the trigger. You're still very much alive, Camille," Spirit Logan said.

I heard a heart-wrenching scream. For a second, I thought it had come from me. Then, I realized that it had originated from Carlos. He had wrestled himself free from James' embrace, and had snuggled up next to Logan, with his head resting on his chest. His helmet rocked back and forth on the floor beside him, having fallen off his head.

Carlos was frantically shaking Logan's lifeless body. Tears fell down the sides of his face in torrents, drenching Logan's corpse in salty tears. I felt so bad. I don't think I had ever seen Carlos _this_ sad before. Heck, I don't think I have ever even seen him sad before! I was so used to him being cheerful and practically bouncing off the walls with his excited energy.

Then I started to think to myself. Losing Logan, they had already suffered such a devastating loss. How could I even contemplate making them suffer even more by taking my own life?

"Logie, come on! We gotta go home! Please wake up! Please?" Carlos screamed before he completely lost it. He couldn't even hold his head up anymore. He just kind of collapsed on top of Logan's body. From head to toe, he was trembling like a leaf. The sound of his sobs rang through my ears over and over again. I plugged my ears, hoping to drown the sound out, but it somehow got even louder.

James stormed out of the bank.

"James, wait!" Kendall called out.

"Come on," Spirit Logan said, as we followed the pair.

James was pacing back and forth, his hands balled tightly in fists; so tightly that his knuckles turned white. All the color seemed to have been drained from his face. He kept muttering unintelligible words under his breath.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kendall asked.

"Am I okay? Do I look okay?" James snapped. "This is wrong, Kendall! This is so wrong!"

"I know."

"Why did this happen? How could someone kill so many people in cold blood? Logan wanted to be a doctor. Now he'll never get the chance! What are we supposed to do now? It's always been the four of us!"

"I don't know, James. I don't know."

I thought I was kind of being selfish, but I was kind of upset that the only person they seemed to care about was Logan. Was this why Logan wanted to show me this? To somehow prove that he mattered to them more than I did?

"That's not why!" Spirit Logan exclaimed.

I rounded on him, and glared daggers at his transparent form.

"Then why? It was bad enough when I lost you. Do you really think it was necessary to watch _them_ lose you too?" I shouted.

"Keep watching," Spirit Logan told me.

I turned back around just in time to see James pull out his cell phone. With trembling fingers, he punched in some numbers in the keypad. Then, he held the phone against his ear. What was he doing? Who was he calling?

"Camille, where are you? We're all worried about you. I'm worried about you. Call me back so that I know that you're okay. If you're not, call me back anyways so I know what I can do to help. I…I…_lost_ Logan, and I'll be damned if I lose anyone else!" James said.

"James," Kendall said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Jo already tried calling her."

"Yeah, so? When's the last time she tried calling her? Besides, it wouldn't hurt if I tried too, right? Don't you see? Something's wrong here, Kendall. _Very _wrong! Camille's not with the survivors; she's not one of those bodies in there covered up with a sheet either. She's missing, Kendall. She wouldn't just leave Logan behind. Not if she could help it. What if she's hurt? What if she's dying? What if she's been kidnapped?"

"We don't know that, James."

"Fine. Then what's _your_ explanation, Kendall?"

"I don't know."

James brushed past Kendall, clenched his right hand into a fist, and punched the nearest wall of the building. He punched clean through the wall, and when he pulled out his fist, his knuckles were all torn and bloodied.

"James," Kendall said sympathetically.

Several tears fell from James' eyes. I honestly wasn't sure if they were _all_ tears of sadness. I'm pretty sure some of them were tears of anger as well.

"I should have saved him, Kendall. I've always been his protector since we were little just like you've always been Carlos' protector. I let Logan down," James mumbled.

"James, there's nothing you could have done," Kendall replied, trying to reason with James.

"Isn't there? I could have went with him when he went to pick up Camille from her audition. Maybe if I had, he'd still be alive. Camille wouldn't be missing…or worse."

"There's no way you could have known that something like this would happen."

James made a beeline for the parking lot.

"James, where are you going?" Kendall asked, following him.

"I'm going to find her; I'm going to find Camille. I owe it to Logan to find her and bring her home safely," James answered.

"Do you even know where she is?"

"No, but I can't do nothing, Kendall! Maybe you can, but I can't! I won't!"

"I really don't think it's a good idea for you to drive in your condition."

James stared at Kendall with wide eyes. Much to my surprise, he even let out a small chuckle…at first. Then, he started to cry even harder than before.

"It sounds like something Logan would say," James said glumly.

Kendall flinched.

"Well, let me get the others, and we'll all go look for Camille…_together_," Kendall said.

James nodded his head without saying a word. As Kendall went back inside the bank, James' legs gave out on him. He fell to his knees, buried his face in his hands and gave into his emotions; letting his tears fall freely.

I turned to Spirit Logan. I wasn't sure what expression I had on my face, but I'm sure it was one of horror.

"Is this happening now? Or has this already happened? Do they find me?" I asked, desperation in my voice.

"You're watching this live. They haven't set off to find you yet, but they soon will. They're looking for you, Camille. Don't give up, Camille. Don't lose hope. Give them _someone_ to find; not just another dead body. Keep on fighting. If not for you, then do it for them; do it for me," Spirit Logan said.

I suddenly found myself back at the hotel, gun still in my mouth, finger over the trigger. Without giving it a second thought, I pulled the gun out of my mouth, and set it on the dresser. I was so confused. If we had been watching it as it happened, how did Logan know what to show me? Did I hear him wrong, or did I hear him say that the others would find me?

"Logan? Where are you?" I called out, looking to my left and then to my right.

I saw the window was open, and the curtain was blowing in the night breeze.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I should really stop setting expectations for each chapter. I never live up to them. I hype up one chapter to be something special, only to have it fall short in my eyes. I said this chapter would be pretty sad, but I have a feeling it wasn't even remotely sad. Sorry for this poor excuse of a chapter…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Me? Own anything? Ha! Don't make me laugh!**

**No Way Out**

I was confused. Had the window been open all along? I couldn't really remember. My memory was all foggy. I vaguely remember Tony waking me up to tell me we were going to spend the night at a hotel. I remember waking up from a dream and putting a gun in my mouth with every intention of killing myself so that I could finally be with Logan again. I just don't remember if the window was open when that happened. I guess I wasn't really paying attention to that at the time.

I felt a surge of hope when I entertained the idea that Logan could have opened the window for me. If that were the case though, that would mean that Logan was still…_alive_. That was impossible, right? I mean as much as I _wanted_ it to be true, how could that be so? Maybe Logan wasn't really alive; maybe he was just helping look out for me. Maybe the window being open was a sign that Logan wanted me to get out; to escape.

I sneaked a peek at Tony who, much to my relief, was still sound asleep. I saw the car keys setting atop the dresser. I snatched the gun from the dresser top, and warily pointed it at a slumbering Tony as I retrieved the car keys. When the object jingled, my body tensed; I was so afraid that Tony would hear that, but he didn't. It took every ounce of self-control I had _not_ to run out the door at top speed. Instead, I was careful; I tiptoed out the hotel room, softly shutting the door behind me.

I unlocked the door of the getaway car, and climbed in, shutting the door behind me as softly as I could manage. I was still terrified that Tony would hear me trying to escape and try to stop me. With shaking hands, I placed the gun on the passenger seat before putting the key in the ignition and turning it.

Soon, I was out of the hotel parking lot. I didn't know where I was, but I knew where I was going; back to The Palm Woods. Kendall, James, Carlos, and Jo were looking for me. Maybe I would meet them halfway. Maybe I could be waiting for them at The Palm Woods. I just wished that I still had my cell phone. I didn't even have any change on me so that I could use a payphone. If only I could contact the others…

I could feel my eyelids start to droop. My neck felt insanely heavy as my head began to tilt downwards. I kept catching myself and pulling it right back up again. I let out a huge yawn. My body was telling me to sleep, but my mind was telling me that I needed to run; the more distance I put between myself and Tony, the better.

As I was driving, I saw the sign for I-5 North. It was then that I realized what Tony had been trying to do; he was driving south in an attempt to get me out of state lines. He wanted to get me in Mexico. But then why _weren't_ we in Mexico then? Did he just get too sleepy to make it to Mexico, and decided to stop at a hotel?

I came to realize that it didn't much matter what Tony's intentions had been. All that mattered was that I escape from him. I kept catching myself start to nod off practically every five seconds. My injured leg wasn't getting any circulation, and had long since went completely numb. I would gladly take numb over bleeding out though.

I had a close call when I saw headlights that were so bright I had to shield my eyes with one of my hands. The oncoming semi honked its horn at me. I must have drifted into the wrong lane. I veered back into the correct lane just in the nick of time. My heart had sped up as did my breathing.

"You're going to get yourself killed! Pull off the side of the road and get some sleep," a familiar voice instructed.

I looked to my right and saw Spirit Logan riding shotgun. I started to notice a pattern; whenever I did anything that put myself in danger, Spirit Logan would come to me. In a weird sort of way, it made me _want_ to do dangerous things. After all, I didn't care _why_ Spirit Logan visited me; all that mattered was that I got to see him again. That way, it was like he was never gone in the first place.

"But I _am_ gone, Camille. You know that," Spirit Logan told me.

My eyes started to tear up once again. I don't think that I had really come to terms with the idea that Logan was truly gone. Having Spirit Logan say so didn't really help matters any. I was still in denial. Maybe I was dreaming this all up. Maybe I was hallucinating.

"You're not dreaming. Nor are you hallucinating," Spirit Logan said.

"Stop doing that!" I exclaimed.

I hated how Spirit Logan kept reading my thoughts. They were _my_ thoughts! I didn't seem to care that I was practically screaming at him. I was just…I didn't even know what I was. I was a whirlwind of emotions: sadness, anger, frustration, guilt, disappointment.

"Camille, pull over. Please," Spirit Logan pleaded.

I vigorously shook my head.

"No! I have to keep running! What if Tony finds me?" I retorted.

"You need rest! Otherwise you're going to get in a wreck and get seriously hurt, or worse," Spirit Logan said.

"So what? If I do, then at least we'll get to be together again!"

"I want that too! You _know_ I do! Just not this way!"

"Why does it matter _how_ we end up together? All that matters is that we end up together! Besides, it's not like I'm _trying_ to get in a crash!"

"Are you sure about that? Since you're not pulling off the side of the road and getting some sleep, you might as well be trying to get in a crash!"

I took deep, cleansing breaths in an attempt to calm my frayed nerves. I was starting to get a headache. I hated that I was fighting with Spirit Logan. The way I saw it, the end justifies the means; I wasn't _trying_ to kill myself, but if I were to die, then at least I'd be reunited with Logan.

"If you ever loved me, then pull over, Camille," Spirit Logan said.

"That's not fair!" I exclaimed.

As it turned out, I didn't have much of a choice because I saw the flashing red and blue lights around the same time I heard the sirens. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw a police car trailing me. I started to freak out. I hadn't been speeding, had I? I don't recall breaking any laws, so why was the police car flashing its sirens and trailing me?

I pulled off the side of the road, and turned the ignition off. In my rearview mirror, I watched a police officer climb out from the squad car. My breath hitched in my throat. I had a bad feeling about this.

"Everything is going to be okay, Camille," Spirit Logan said reassuringly.

"How do you know that? You don't know that!" I retorted.

"Step out of the vehicle, and put your hands on your head," the police officer instructed.

Maybe I wouldn't be so freaked out if I knew what this was all about. I hadn't done anything wrong though. I was a law-abiding citizen. My criminal record was spotless. I hadn't even gotten so much as a ticket yet.

I did what was asked of me. I couldn't help but notice that the police officer, a tall black man with an athletic build and a buzz cut, was pointing his gun at me. What was it with people waving loaded guns at me? Didn't they realize how terrifying that was to me?

As I felt my arms forcibly being pulled behind me, as the officer slapped handcuffs on me, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, the black officer's partner search inside the car I had been driving.

"There's a loaded gun in here. I also found a bag with thousands of dollars of cash inside," she stated.

A feeling of dread washed over me as I began to realize why I had been pulled over. They falsely believed that I was a fugitive on the run. That wasn't it at all. Knowing that the two officers were so wrong was frustrating to no end.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" the male officer said, reading me my Miranda rights.

I nodded my head, afraid to verbalize an answer and risk saying anything that would make me look worse than I already did. I still couldn't believe this. These two officers had the wrong idea. How could they think that I was guilty of…whatever they thought I was guilty of?

"The evidence is pretty incriminating. You're driving the getaway car. You have the bag of stolen money from the bank. There's a loaded weapon in the passenger seat that, if checked for fingerprints, will have your fingerprints on it," Spirit Logan answered.

_But I'm innocent!_

"You know that! I know that! But they don't," Spirit Logan replied.

_I'm the victim here! I was being held hostage! Don't they realize that I was the hostage here and not the robber? _

"They probably were only given a description of the getaway car. They might not have been there at the bank when Tony took you hostage. For all they know, you could be either one of the robbers or the hostage," Logan explained.

I had to duck my head as the male police officer ushered me into the back of the squad car. He shut the door behind me. I looked to my left, and saw that Spirit Logan was sitting beside me. He placed his hand on my leg even though I couldn't feel it.

"Don't worry, Camille. Everything's going to be fine. You'll see," Spirit Logan said.

I wanted to believe him. I really did, but he had already proven that he has no way of knowing what the future might hold. Therefore, how could he possibly know that everything was going to be fine? He couldn't. He didn't.

"Maybe, but you're innocent. It's only a matter of time until they realize that, and once they do, they won't have any reason to keep you in custody," Spirit Logan stated.

It was unnerving. I wasn't used to _this_ Logan. He was so…_calm_…even under pressure. He looked at the glass as being half-full rather than half-empty. I mean I guess he was like Logan in every other way that mattered. Still…I didn't want _this_ Logan; I wanted _my_ Logan. Tears fell unchecked down my face; my hands were handcuffed behind my back so I couldn't even wipe my tears away.

"You have to know that if there was any way I could come back to you, I'd do it without a moment's hesitation. I'm just _so_ sorry that I ever had to leave you in the first place. I failed you. I tried to stay alive; I tried so hard, but it just wasn't good enough, was it?" Spirit Logan asked me.

I blinked back tears. My heart skipped a beat. My breath hitched in my throat. For a moment there, Spirit Logan actually sounded…_human_. Because he wasn't alive, he couldn't experience emotions, yet it almost seemed like he was sad, like he regretted not being able to stay alive. What did that mean?

"It means that I _am_ your Logan, even if you don't realize it. The only difference is that we'll never be able to hold hands again; I'll never be able to hold you in my arms again. Also, I'm a bit more…grounded," Spirit Logan said.

"I'm sorry, but you're _not_ my Logan! You're not! I miss all of your adorable little quirks. Where have they gone? I just…" I started to say before I completely lost my composure. "I want you back. The _real_ you; not _this_ you! I want to be able to snuggle with you. I want to be able to hold your hand. I want to be able to kiss you. I can't do any of those things, and I hate it!"

"Don't cry, Camille. Please don't cry."

"Don't cry? Look around, Logan! I've been arrested for a crime I didn't even commit! The love of my life is dead! What possibly do I have to be happy about?"

"Hey, keep it down back there!" the male police officer shouted.

"Who is she even talking to?" the female police officer asked.

"Who knows? She's obviously not all there."

I was once again reminded of the fact that I was the only one who could see and hear Spirit Logan. I'm not sure what the two officers thought of me; well actually, now I had a pretty good idea, but they probably thought I was hearing voices in my head or something. They probably thought I was crazy.

"Who cares what they think? They don't know you; I do. So you're upset. It's only because you care. I would be more worried if you weren't upset. You're in a dark place right now. You may not be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it's there. I know it is," Spirit Logan said.

A part of me wanted to tell Spirit Logan off for making me reassurances when he didn't even know if they would hold true. However, the rest of me, for the first time in a long time felt a sense of hope after hearing what he said to me. I held onto that hope. I held on for dear life.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update this. As I said on Tumblr, I'd hate to make excuses for myself, but I've had a rough couple of weeks. My self-confidence has taken a huge blow. I'm shaken. I'm down, but hopefully I'm not out. I usually don't do that, but here's a preview of the next chapter: Camille's dad goes to visit her at the police station, but he's not the only one; Kendall, James, Carlos, and Jo reunite with Camille for the first time since the traumatic bank robbery. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm back! I updated In the Beginning. I'm updating this today. I've been told that my writing's not rusty, so let's give this story a shot now. **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

I had just got done getting a couple of mug shots taken, and getting fingerprinted. I now had black ink on the pads of my fingers. They wouldn't even let me wash my hands, which were once again, cuffed behind my back. So I sat there in an uncomfortable chair at the police station while I waited to see what they were going to do with me.

I was extremely tired. Up until this point, I had only been able to doze off for short periods of time. I hadn't _really_ been able to get a decent amount of sleep so far. That alone made me a bit cranky.

I was ashamed. Here I was with my arms handcuffed behind my back in a _police station_! For a crime I didn't even commit. What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? This would go on my permanent record. What would my friends think? What would my father think? A shiver coursed through my body at the mere thought of that.

I was numb. At least my leg was. I couldn't really feel it at all anymore. I would occasionally look at it just to make sure that it was still there, which it was. But more than physically numb, I was _emotionally_ numb. I was so spent that I just didn't want to feel anything anymore. I had endured more in the past how long has it even been? 11 hours? 12 hours? Than most people have to endure in their lifetime.

I took some comfort in the fact that the officer who arrested me was getting chewed out by the police chief for not following proper protocol. I clearly had a gunshot wound on my leg, and as such, I should have been taken to the hospital for treatment _first_. In addition to that, he was being chewed out because the police chief _was_ there at the bank; he knew that I not only matched the description of the hostage, I _was_ the hostage. It was a horrible thought, but I secretly hoped the officer who arrested me lost his job for his stupidity and negligence.

"Camille!" a voice cried out.

I turned my head towards the origin of the voice and saw my father enter the police station. He was certainly a sight for sore eyes. For the first time in a long time, my heart swelled with joy; it was _so_ good to see him! He ran over to me and wrapped his arms around me in an embrace.

"Why does my daughter have handcuffs on her?" my father demanded as soon as he realized _why_ I wasn't hugging him back.

"My apologies, sir. It was a mistake, but your daughter is free to go now. I'd advise you to take her to the Emergency Room though to get her leg checked out," the police chief said as he used his handcuff key to free me.

My father had a few choice words that he muttered unintelligibly under his breath as he led the way towards the door. Before we got there though, the door opened, and in walked Kendall, James, Carlos, and Jo.

I wasted no time storming over to Jo, and slapping her hard across her face. Nobody, least of all Jo, saw that coming from me. My father held me back as I squirmed in his grasp. I hadn't even gotten started yet.

"This is all your fault! Logan's dead because of you! If you hadn't called me, he would still be alive! Because of your call, he lied to protect me. Because he lied, he got shot. Because he got shot, he died! I'll never forgive you for this, Jo!" I screamed.

Kendall grabbed his girlfriend firmly by the shoulders. She had tears streaming down her face.

"I'm so sorry, Camille. I never meant for any of this to happen. I was just worried about you…" Jo responded, shaken.

"Worried about me? Logan _died_ because of your worry! Do you not understand that?"

"Camille, that's enough. This wasn't Jo's fault," Kendall said calmly.

I scoffed.

"Of course you'd say that," I muttered under my breath. "You're her boyfriend."

"That's right, which is why I'm not going to stand by and let you pin this on her," Kendall replied.

I turned towards Jo. I held her gaze in mine for the most fleeting of moments before she cowered from my gaze. She wasn't the only one crying; I was too. Only I was too worked up, I was too angry at Jo to be sad right now.

"I'm done with you! Our friendship is over! I never want to see your face again!" I exclaimed before turning towards Kendall. "As for you, if you're going to defend _her_ after what she did, then I want you gone too!"

"Camille, please don't do this," Jo begged.

"Get out."

"Camille, I…"

"Get out!"

Kendall had a look of sheer disbelief on his face probably because he couldn't believe that I was talking to him and Jo like I was. Well frankly, I couldn't believe that _he_ was taking Jo's side when _she_ was the reason Logan got shot in the first place. Logan _died_ because of her! Doesn't that matter to Kendall? I thought Logan was his best friend!

Kendall and Jo apparently didn't need to be told twice. The two of them left without saying another word. I could honestly care less if I saw either one of them again.

I then turned my attention to a bewildered James and Carlos. It looked like they didn't quite know what to make of what just happened. It was hard to tell who looked worse out of the two of them. Both of them had red, puffy eyes. Both looked as though they had done a lot of crying themselves.

"Do you think I'm right blaming Jo?" I asked them bluntly.

"Absolutely," James answered without a moment's hesitation.

I even detected bitterness in his voice. I was willing to bet that he wasn't too happy with Jo either. I was just glad I wasn't the only one who felt that way. I then looked at Carlos.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I…uh…can't we all just get along? I mean is _now_ really the time to be fighting amongst ourselves?" Carlos replied.

I put my hands on my hips as I started to close the distance between the two of us. As soon as he saw this, he immediately started backing away from me. He wasn't stupid. He's known me long enough to know that I'm not someone you want to mess with when I'm mad.

"Oh, so you think I was out of line then, do you?" I demanded.

"If Logan were alive, he wouldn't want us to fight either," Carlos commented.

A sob escaped my lips when Carlos mentioned Logan's name. Once again, it was just another reminder that he wasn't with me; that never again would he ever be with me. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I tried to ignore the way my heart ached with loss.

"Geez, you really are stupid! Don't you get it? We're fighting _because_ of Logan! It's pointless thinking about what Logan would do if he were alive because he's not! And it's all because of Jo!" I practically shouted at Carlos.

Carlos whimpered. Were I not so furious at him at the moment, I might have actually been bothered by that.

"I'm just going to throw this out there, but maybe Logan died because of you, Camille. Maybe if you had just called Jo and let her know that you and Logan were okay, Jo wouldn't have called you, Logan wouldn't have been shot, and he'd still be alive," Carlos said.

No sooner had he finished his sentence did I slap him across the cheek. Now I was crying, but they were angry tears this time. I had a hard time wrapping my head around what Carlos had just said to me. He actually had the nerve to blame _me_ for Logan's death. Up until now, I had never had a problem with Carlos. Now though, it was like I didn't even know who he was anymore. The sting of his betrayal hurt far worse than the sting of Jo's betrayal.

"How dare you?" I replied bitterly. "What was I supposed to be like, 'Excuse me bank robbers, let me just phone my friends to let them know I'm okay, and then you can resume your bank heist?' You weren't there, Carlos! You have no idea how terrifying it was for me and…"

James intervened, stepping in between me and Carlos.

"Hey buddy," James said to Carlos. "Maybe it's not too late to catch up with Kendall and Jo. Maybe they haven't left yet."

I was appalled that James even still called Carlos "buddy" after he practically blamed _me_ for all of this! Oh well. I didn't need Jo, Kendall, or Carlos anyways! As a matter of fact, I don't need anyone! And if James wants to keep calling Carlos "buddy," then I don't need him either!

I didn't even realize that Carlos had left the police station. I was surprised to find that James hadn't.

"Camille," James said. I didn't respond, so he gently grabbed my chin, and forced me to look up at him. "Hey, look at me. Don't let what Carlos said get to you, okay? You know how he is. He just doesn't like it when people he cares about fight."

"Please don't," I begged him. "Don't defend him. He _blamed_ me for Logan's death! It wasn't my fault, James. You have to believe me! I really tried to do everything I could!"

My knees gave out on me, but James was there to catch me before I fell. He helped steady me on my feet. I buried my face in his v-neck and cried my eyes out. This time, there were more tears of sadness than anything else.

"Camille, you have to understand something; you're not the only one hurting here. We all are. We all loved Logan," James said.

"Stop it," I commanded. "Don't talk about Logan in the past tense. It's too soon. I can't handle that."

"I just…"

"Shut up, James. Please? Everyone's turning their back on me, and I can't lose you too."

"Don't worry about that, Camille. I'm not going anywhere."

XXXXX

I guess I must have dozed off during the ride to the hospital. I just remember James waking me up as we pulled into the hospital. Apparently, my dad drove me and James to the hospital so I could get my leg examined.

The two of them had to wait in the waiting room as I was taken to the Emergency Room. They must have put me under anesthesia or something because that's the last thing I really remember. I was finally able to get some much needed sleep.

I was back at The Palm Woods. I had just stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. I unconsciously started scanning the faces of the residents for Logan, hoping against hope that he was there, and he was. The joy I felt at seeing him was immediately replaced by confusion because after taking one look at his face, I could tell that he wasn't happy with me for some reason.

He was sitting on a sofa. I walked over to the sofa, and sat down beside him. He responded by scooting as far away from me as the sofa would allow. Quite honestly, I was hurt by this.

"What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?" I asked.

"As if you even need to ask!" Logan retorted, refusing to make eye contact with me.

I felt my eyes start to well up with tears. Wasn't this my dream? Weren't dreams supposed to be happy? Then maybe this wasn't a dream. But then what was this? A nightmare? I was so confused.

"I haven't even had a funeral yet, and you've already moved on!" Logan remarked.

"Moved on? What are you talking about?" I replied, thoroughly confused.

"You and James! I always knew there was something between you two! He's the reason you and I broke up in the first place!"

"There's nothing going on between me and James! He's just being a good friend. He's the only friend I have left."

"Yeah, because you pushed everyone else away!"

I was literally shaking. I hated fighting with Logan. I still had no clue where I was and what was happening. He was looking at me now though. But before I could get too excited by that, I soon found myself cowering from his steely gaze.

"Slapping Carlos was uncalled for! You can slap me all you want, but leave Carlos alone!" Logan exclaimed.

"He deserved it! He blamed me for your death!" I screamed back.

It was quite odd. Though the lobby was far from empty, no one seemed to pay any mind to the fact that Logan and I were yelling at each other. It was like they were there, but not really.

"Camille," Logan said, his voice softening. "It's so easy to play the blame game. It's so easy to point fingers. However, isn't loss supposed to bring people together instead of tear them apart?"

"You make it sound so easy," I responded.

"I never said it was easy. James is right though. You're not the only one hurting. Everyone's hurting. Kendall, James, Carlos, Jo, they're all hurting too."

"What am I supposed to do now?"

Logan didn't answer me right away. I saw him look at someone I couldn't see and nod his head once.

"Logan?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, Camille. I have to go now," he answered, standing up from the sofa.

"Go? Go where?"

Just like that, he was gone. I blinked my eyes once. Twice. Three times. He was just there a second ago. Where did he go? How did he vanish so quickly? I didn't even see him leave. I just saw that he was no longer there.

"I'm sorry, Logan." I said, unsure if Logan could even hear me. "I'm sorry for everything."

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. There was a lot of fighting in it. But after Camille's talk with Logan, things hopefully are looking up. I updated though, so that's something, right? **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Okay, so I haven't updated this in a bit, and I apologize for that. Honestly, the inspiration just isn't coming to me where this story is concerned. Like I know what I want to happen in C22, 23, or 24, but this is only C13! I also kinda want it to be realistic and actually have Camille get a fair amount of sleep, so maybe the next 4-6 chapters will be her dreaming. But then the issue becomes what should she dream about? **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**No Way Out**

I was in a sea of people. I wasn't really sure what was going on. As I took in my surroundings, I saw a stage in front of me, and a bunch of girls with signs and Big Time Rush shirts; some they bought, and others were homemade. I was pretty sure I was at a Big Time Rush concert, and based on how close to the stage I was, I guessed I was part of the mosh pit.

When I heard the intro to Til I Forget About You start to play, my heart began to race. I wasn't sure what to expect; did Kendall, James, and Carlos _replace_ Logan? Or did they just turn Big Time Rush into a three-member band? As the band members filed out onto the stage, waving to the screaming fans, it turned out I was wrong. Logan was with them.

How was that possible? Wasn't he…_dead_? He didn't look transparent or anything, so he couldn't be Spirit Logan. I was so confused. Did that mean that the whole bank robbery and Tony taking me hostage ordeal was just a bad dream? Was this concert right here right now my reality? Or was this concert a dream?

As Logan was waving to the fans, our eyes locked. He flashed me his trademark dimpled, Logan smile and winked at me. I nearly melted into a puddle right where I stood. He certainly _seemed_ healthy enough. I mean he was doing a concert for crying out loud! I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Logan was alive when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

I turned around to find Jo smiling at me. She was holding a "I Heart Kendall" sign in one hand. She walked over to me, and honestly, I was fully expecting her to slap me after what happened the last time I talked to her; if you could even call me slapping her and declaring our friendship over _talking_ to her. I was surprised when she embraced me in a one-armed hug.

"There you are, Camille! I lost you there for awhile," Jo said.

"Aren't you mad at me?" I asked hesitantly.

She gave me a funny look. It honestly looked like she wanted to laugh at me for some reason unknown to me.

"Why would I be mad at you? Because we got separated? It happens, Camille. Don't worry about it. I've been to enough Big Time Rush concerts to know that their fangirls are pushy people," Jo responded.

A part of me wanted to remind her of all the horrible stuff that happened; to remind her _why_ I thought she had every right to be mad at me. However, I was far too selfish for that. I was just glad that she and I were still friends; I was just glad that I had my best friend back.

XXXXX

Big Time Rush had finished the final song of their set. Logan looked to his right, and Kendall, James, and Carlos all nodded their heads. He then walked toward the center of the stage.

"One last thing. Camille, will you join me on the stage?" Logan requested.

Jo nudged me forward gently. As I made my way up the steps, I could feel the icy glares of several jealous fangirls. As soon as I ascended the steps, Logan was right there waiting for me. He held out his hand, palm up, and I placed my hand in his. Then, he led me to the center of the stage. My heart fluttered at the feel of my hand once again in his.

"Camille, I have one question for you," Logan said.

Oh, here it comes! Now he's going to tear into me about how he blames me for what happened to him back at the bank. I knew this was too good to be true. I was still puzzled by that. Did the bank heist even happen at all? Maybe it had, but Logan just didn't die during it. Maybe I somehow got knocked unconscious or something and I don't remember what happened at all.

My attention was back on Logan as I saw him put his hand in the front left pocket of his skinny jeans. He was so focused on rummaging through the contents of his pocket that his tongue stuck out ever so slightly. I held back a laugh. That was too adorable!

At long last, he pulled out a black velvet box. I froze in my tracks, and my heart skipped a beat. It was suddenly a chore to breathe properly. I couldn't believe this! Was that what I thought it was? I must really be dreaming now! But I didn't care! Even if I was, the last thing I wanted to do was wake up now!

He got down on one knee, and opened up the black velvet box to reveal a gorgeous engagement ring. He held it in front of him with shaky hands. It was so cute how nervous he was! That's my Logan!

"Camille, will you marry me?" he asked; even his voice was shaking.

I took some time to look around me. Kendall, James, and Carlos were eagerly awaiting my response. I quickly spotted Jo in the mosh pit, and she too seemed to be hanging on my every word. Were they…in on this? It certainly seemed that way.

"Well, don't leave me hanging. I'm starting to get scared that you'll say…"

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

Logan had a ridiculously goofy grin on his face. His chocolate eyes were lit up with pure excitement and joy.

"Yes? You said yes?" Logan asked for clarification. Typical Logan.

I merely nodded my head. He slid the ring on my finger, stood up, walked over to me, and the two of us shared an extremely passionate kiss. His soft lips felt so good against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He had one hand on the side of my face. With his other hand, he wrapped it around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

The audience, which up until this point, I had forgotten even existed, erupted into a chorus of "Aww"s and loud applause. I was so incredibly proud of Logan; he had come a long way since he first tried to ask me out to The Palm Woods first ever dance. Look at him now; proposing to me on stage at a sold-out venue.

I was in such a state of bliss. I never thought I would be able to kiss Logan again, yet here we were doing exactly that. I felt like the luckiest girl on the face of the planet. I would soon be Mrs. Camille _Mitchell_! I quite liked the sound of that!

XXXXX

I woke up the next morning. I held my hand in front of my face, admiring the beautiful engagement ring on it. That's when I felt someone else in bed with me. It was at this time that I realized that I was naked. That was odd. I usually at least wore a nightgown to bed. I rolled over on my side fully expecting to find myself face-to-face with Logan. However, it wasn't Logan I was looking at; it was Steve. He wasn't wearing a shirt. The lower half of his body was underneath the sheets yet, so I had no clue if that part of him was naked as well. I screamed.

"Steve! What are you…How did you…Oh no! We didn't…did we?" I shouted at him.

"Have amazing sex last night? As a matter of fact, we did," Steve answered, grinning from ear to ear.

I furiously shook my head. _No! This couldn't be happening! I wouldn't do that to Logan! Especially the same night we got engaged! This wasn't real! Yeah, there's no way Steve and I…_

"Why so surprised, baby? I seem to recall you calling me last night. If memory serves, you were the one who also suggested we…well, you know," Steve said.

I slapped him so hard across his cheek that I left a red hand print there. To my dismay, he seemed unfazed by my action. He still had this triumphant smirk on his face that I wanted to wipe right off.

"Logan doesn't deserve you! He's still a boy while I'm a man!" Steve remarked.

"You're the same age!" I cried out.

"It would be a shame if he were ever to find out what you and I did last night…"

"Steve, don't! Please don't!"

Tears were streaming down my eyes. I still couldn't believe that I had cheated on Logan. I still couldn't believe that I lost my virginity to Steve. I always thought it would be Logan. It _should have been_ Logan!

Steve reached over and cupped my cheek with his hand, I flinched away from the contact, and pushed his hand away. He chuckled.

"Why wouldn't I tell Logan, baby? I finally beat him. After all the back and forth the two of you do with each other, I finally beat him. Now all that's left to do is rub his face in it," Steve said. I gave him a warning look. "Don't look at me like that, baby. You only have yourself to blame. What happened between you and I last night, that was _your_ call. I asked you several times if you were sure you wanted to do this, and you reassured me that you were. _You_ did this to Logan."

"Get out!" I shouted at Steve.

Steve threw off the covers, revealing that he had in fact been naked too. He grabbed his clothes off the floor, and left my bedroom. I buried my face in my hands and cried. _Why? Why did I cheat on Logan? How could I cheat on Logan? This was like kissing James all over again, but this time, it was ten times worse!_

XXXXX

I made it out to the lobby just in time to see Logan deck Steve in the jaw, knocking him to the floor. Steve wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" I asked Steve, kneeling down beside him.

"I guess I got my answer," Logan said, before turning around to leave.

"Logan, wait!"

I stood up and ran over to Logan, grabbing his arm. He immediately shook himself free from my grasp. As he turned to face me, I saw the hurt, betrayal, sadness, disappointment, and anger in his eyes. The worst part was knowing that I was the reason he was feeling those emotions.

"How could you?" he demanded.

"Logan, I…" I started to say.

"I trusted you, Camille! I was going to _marry_ you!"

"Please, let me explain!"

"By all means, go ahead! My ears are burning! Explain to me why you cheated on your fiancé the same night we got engaged!"

Only when it came time to explain, I had no words; I had no explanation. Logan stared at me waiting for my explanation, but it never came. Once he realized I had none, he turned his back on me, and started to walk away from me again.

"You two deserve each other," Logan muttered under his breath.

My chest felt like it was on fire. I couldn't breathe. I suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, only they weren't Logan's. I knew they weren't Logan's. They were Steve's.

"It's okay, baby," Steve whispered in my ear. "This is for the best."

"No! Let go of me!" I yelled, trying desperately to pry Steve's arms off me, but to no avail.

I eventually gave up trying to free myself from Steve. Tears cascaded down my face. After I cheated on Logan the first time by kissing James, I thought he and I would never get back together again. However, not only did we get back together, but we got engaged. Then, I had to go and cheat on Logan a second time, only this time by having sex with Steve. Now I was convinced that this was the nail in the coffin that was our relationship. Logan would never forgive me for this, and I honestly didn't blame him.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Wow! I don't even know what to say after that. The only thing I can come up with is this is categorized as angst for a reason…**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Even after all this time, I still don't own Big Time Rush.**

**No Way Out**

The surrounding began to change all around me. I had no idea what was going on. When my environment had finished shifting, I found myself in what looked like a beach house. It kind of reminded me of the one Griffin let us use for the day way back when. I hoped it wasn't Griffin's though because that would be…well, that would be weird to say the least.

I saw a little girl run through the house, her bare feet padding on the kitchen floor. I noticed that she had curly locks of brown hair. I had no idea who she was. I had never seen this kid before in my life.

"Ready or not, here I come," an all-too-familiar voice called out.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Logan enter the kitchen. He pretty much looked the same. He appeared to be slightly older though. I would guess in his early twenties. Now, I was more confused than ever. As soon as I saw him, I threw my arms around him.

"There you are!" I exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

He laughed softly. "What are you talking about? I'm not the one hiding. I'm the seeker. Our daughter's the one hiding," he answered.

My heart skipped a beat. _Our_ daughter? So that little girl I saw run through the kitchen earlier was Logan and my daughter? I mean I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I certainly see the resemblance; she has my hair. But still…when did we…how…we never…

"Are you okay? You look a little pale; like you saw a ghost or something," Logan said.

Was that what he was? A ghost? But he couldn't be! I hugged him! You aren't supposed to be able to hug ghosts! What was going on? Wait. So this house…was it ours too? That's when I noticed a wedding ring on my finger. When did this happen? Not only was I apparently married to Logan, but I had a kid with him too! Not that I wasn't thrilled about that, because it was a dream come true. It's just how come I don't remember the wedding or giving birth? You'd think I would remember stuff like that!

He had one hand resting on my shoulder. With his other hand, he felt my forehead. I couldn't get over the fact that not only was I married to Logan, but we had a daughter! He must have forgiven me for what happened with Steve. Then a thought dawned on me. What if that never happened in the first place? What if this too wasn't real? Don't get me wrong; I _wanted_ it to be real. It's just some things didn't quite add up…

"Maybe you should lay down for a bit," Logan suggested.

I reached my hand up and caressed the side of his face. He lightly closed his eyes, enjoying what I was doing. At least I _think_ he was enjoying it. I mean a content smile was tugging at his lips.

"You're sweet," I commented. "But really, I'm fine. I've never been better in fact."

That was the truth too. Right here right now, I had everything I had ever wanted. I had everything I could ever ask for. It was more than I deserved really. How did I get so lucky? I must be the luckiest girl on the planet.

"Okay. Hey, do you want to help me look for Erin?" he asked.

Erin? Was that the name of our daughter? Erin. I liked that name. It was a beautiful name. When I saw Logan staring at me, I realized he was waiting for an answer.

"No, you go ahead. I'll just watch you two," I responded.

Logan planted a kiss on my lips before resuming his search for our daughter. I gripped the counter with both of my hands, struggling to stay upright. Logan's kiss had left me reeling. I remember when I had always been the one who had to initiate the kiss. Logan had come a long way since those days.

Once I was sure I was capable of locomotion, I followed Logan into the living room. I spotted Erin. I'm pretty sure Logan spotted her too. It was kind of hard _not _to! She hadn't done a very good job of hiding; her sneakers sticking out of the bottom of the curtains. Plus, she could be heard giggling.

"Welp, I guess Erin's not in here. I have no idea where she could be. She's such a good hider," Logan commented, earning another giggle from our daughter.

I snickered as Logan pretended to look underneath the couch. I rolled my eyes at him. Yes, Logan. Because Erin could _totally_ fit under there! She came out from behind the curtain.

"I'm right here, silly!" she announced.

She excitedly ran over to her daddy. He hoisted her into the air and twirled her around like an airplane. Erin was smiling and laughing the whole time. He then set her down. She clapped her hands enthusiastically. Logan then started to stagger around like he was dizzy before face planting on the couch. This only caused Erin to laugh even harder than before. I started cracking up as well. It was so obvious he was only _pretending_ to be dizzy. I had to admit though. He was _really_ good with her. I shouldn't sound so surprised. Of course Logan would make a great father. How could he not?

"Here comes the tickle monster!" Logan said before tickling Erin.

"Oh no! Not that!" she replied, before she was laughing and squirming as her daddy tickled her.

XXXXX

The three of us were eating dinner. Everything about this was perfect. If this was a dream, this was my favorite dream ever! If this was a dream, I didn't want it to end. However, I hoped it _wasn't_ a dream. I wanted this to be real. I would give anything for this to be real.

I heard what sounded like glass shattering. It seemed to come from the front door. My eyes found Logan's at that moment. I didn't know what expression I wore on my face, but I knew that Logan looked worried. His worry increased tenfold when we heard someone messing with the lock on the front door.

"Camille, take Erin upstairs, and lock yourselves in our bedroom. Don't come out until either the police or I say it's okay to," Logan instructed.

"But Daddy, what about you?" Erin asked, starting to cry.

"Don't worry about Daddy, sweetie! I'll be fine. Come here. Give me hug and a kiss."

Logan got up out of his chair, and got down on both knees so that he was at Erin's level. She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I love you," he said to her.

"I love you too, Daddy," she replied.

He looked over at me and nodded his head. I got up out of my chair, and walked over to Erin.

"Come on, Erin. Let's go upstairs," I said, taking her tiny hand in mine.

"No! I don't wanna leave Daddy!" Erin protested, kicking, thrashing, and screaming.

My blood ran cold when I heard the front door open. I scooped Erin up in my arms and hurried towards the stairs. I didn't dare look back. I was too afraid to look back. Erin was crying hysterically in my arms crying out for Logan. My eyes were streaked with tears as well.

Once we reached the top of the staircase, I heard the most horrifying sound; I heard the sound of a gunshot. My breath caught in my throat. At that moment, it felt like an anaconda had wrapped itself around my torso and was squeezing the life out of me. It suddenly became extremely difficult for me to breathe.

I was torn. I wanted to do nothing more than race down the stairs to make sure Logan was okay. I needed to know that he was fine. I needed to know that he wasn't hurt. A nagging voice in the back of my mind was telling me though that there was nothing I could do for him anymore.

"Shut up!" I said out loud, foolishly thinking that would silence the voice.

The rest of me wanted to fulfill Logan's wish. My vision was obstructed by the myriad tears that fell from my eyes. Logan's _last_ wish had been that Erin and I get to safety. I knew that he would do everything in his power to buy us some more time so we could get to safety. I just wish he didn't have to get hurt in the process. I didn't like that he was sacrificing himself for us. Still, Logan was counting on me to protect our daughter, and I wasn't going to let him down.

XXXXX

I don't know how long it had been, but after what seemed like forever, someone was pounding on the bedroom door. I strained my ear as I hoped to hear Logan's voice, but it wasn't. It was a much different voice.

"This is the police. It's okay to come out now," the police officer said.

I started to freak out. Logan had told me to stay in the bedroom until either the he or the police told me it was okay to come out. Why didn't Logan tell me to come out then? What did that mean? Was he okay? Was he hurt? Was he still alive? Had something bad happened to him? I was holding a sleeping Erin in my arms. She had cried herself to sleep. She had been so scared when she heard someone break into our house.

First, I took Erin to her bedroom, tucking her in. Then I went downstairs. I saw several police officers standing around. I also saw a body with a white sheet draped over it. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I knew who that body belonged to. However, it didn't stop me from hoping that the body belonged to whoever it was that broke into our house instead.

I knelt down beside the dead body. My hand froze in mid-air as I reached to pull back the white sheet. I wanted to learn the identity of the dead body, but at the same time, I didn't. Especially if it _was_ Logan. There was no way to put a positive spin on it if Logan was the one that _was_ underneath that white sheet.

I took a deep breath, and pulled back the sheet. I let out a horrified gasp when I saw that it _was_ Logan underneath the sheet. His skin had a grayish tinge to it. He was lying there as still as a statue. It was clear as day how he had been killed; there was a bullet embedded in his forehead, part of it protruding out. Around the bullet, there was dried, caked on blood.

"No!" I wailed, throwing myself on top of Logan.

_Not again_! I had lost Logan _again_! It was little comfort that this time around, I hadn't actually watched Logan die before my very eyes, but what difference did that make? It still didn't change the fact that he was dead. I was sobbing uncontrollably. Even though my face was pressed against Logan's unmoving chest, I couldn't see anything out of my eyes clouded with tears.

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. All of these dreams, or nightmares as they were, somehow or another involved me losing Logan. It wasn't always that Logan died. In one of them, I lost him because I cheated on him with Steve. What did this all mean? Was there some sort of underlying meaning to all of this? Why was I being tortured so? Losing Logan once was bad enough!

The more I thought about it, the more cruel it became. It always started out so pleasantly. Like the happiness was taunting me because it never lasted. It never failed to end with unbearable grief. Why did it always end with such sorrow?

Out of nowhere, the surroundings began to shift once more. They whizzed by in a blur. However one thing stayed constant. The image of Logan with a bullet in his forehead. But even that too went away too. Now I found myself in pitch black darkness. I wasn't sure what was worse; waking up and facing reality or staying asleep only to have yet another nightmare that somehow involved me losing Logan.

To Be Continued…


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Yay! I know what I want to happen in the next two dreams (this and Chapter 16)! Are these dreams getting old? If so, I'm sorry. I just…Camille has to get some sleep. I mean one can only stay up so long before one gets exhausted to the point where one can't keep one's eyes open.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and odds are that the next disclaimer I type, I won't own anything then either…**

**No Way Out**

I was running through a corn field with stalks of corn taller than me. I wasn't alone either. Kendall, James, Carlos, Logan, and Jo were running with me. Each of us kept sneaking a glance over our shoulders. All of our eyes darted wildly, taking in our surroundings. A shot echoed through the air, causing a flock of birds to take to the sky out of fear.

"Where is he? Is he still after us?" Carlos asked, his voice full of terror.

"I don't know. Just keep running," Kendall answered.

I lost track of how long we had even been running. My bangs were matted to my forehead with sweat. There was a ringing in my ears. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard that I was worried it might tear clean through my ribcage. My breathing had sped up rapidly. My sides protested in pain from the strenuous exercise.

"Everyone stay together. If we get separated, we'll be picked off one by one," Logan told us.

I wasn't even sure how far out the corn fields we were running through went. I didn't even know why the gunman was after us. All that I knew was that he was trying to shoot us and so we were running from him. For all I knew, there could be more than one gunman too. That thought alone sent a chill down my spine.

"Haven't we seen this scarecrow before?" James asked as the six of us stopped to catch our breath despite Kendall's obvious disapproval.

"Are we…_lost_?" Carlos asked, frightened.

"No!" Kendall said, quick to reassure his panicked friend. "Come on. Break time's over."

"But we're tired! We've been running for what seems like forever!" Jo whined.

"Yeah, but a moving target is harder to hit than a stationary one, which is why we need to keep moving. Staying here like this, we're sitting ducks."

"_Some _of us aren't athletes!" I remarked, doubled over with my hands on my knees.

Another gunshot rang through the air. Kendall looked down at his chest and saw that he had a bullet in it. Jo let out a deafening scream of horror. A thin ribbon of crimson began to seep out of the corner of Kendall's mouth.

"I got you, buddy," James said, catching Kendall before he hit the ground.

James sat on the ground with Kendall's head in his lap. Logan shrugged off his jacket and was holding it to the wound on Kendall's chest. Jo sank to her knees and clasped onto one of Kendall's hands, tears streaming down her face.

"Hang in there, Kendall. You're going to be fine," Logan said, his voice cracking.

After a great deal of effort, Kendall somehow managed to crack a small smile despite everything.

"I'm…not. I know…I'm…not. Forget…about…me. Get…out…of…here. Run!" Kendall stammered, his breathing labored.

"No! We're not leaving you!" Carlos exclaimed, dropping to the ground and taking Kendall's other hand.

There wasn't a dry eye among us. I don't know about anybody else, but I felt a crushing sense of guilt. If I had been in better shape, I could have kept running. We wouldn't have had to stop, and maybe Kendall wouldn't have been shot.

"Camille, are you okay?" Logan asked almost like he could sense that something was wrong with me.

"It's nothing," I lied.

Kendall's breathing was labored; the gaps in between breaths seemed to get longer and longer. I was amazed that Kendall didn't appear to be in any pain. He almost seemed at ease with all this.

"You can't die, Kendall!" Jo wailed. "You just can't!"

Kendall struggled to sit up. Seeing him have so much difficulty doing such an elementary task was truly heartbreaking. Jo seemed to be able to sense what Kendall was trying to do, and leaned closer to Kendall. Their lips met in a delicate kiss. As soon as their lips touched, Kendall's head fell back to the ground, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Kendall? No! Kendall, wake up! Please wake up!" Jo yelled, frantically shaking him.

Logan put two fingers to Kendall's neck to check for a pulse. He shook his head in disbelief, and we all knew what that meant; there was none. Kendall was dead. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. Why was this gunman doing this to us? What did we ever do to him?

Jo rested her head on Kendall's still chest, the one side of her face getting smeared with blood in the process, but Jo didn't even care. Her sobs could be heard over everyone else's. I had never seen Jo cry so much in all the time I have known her.

"We have to go," James said.

"James!" Logan scolded. "Kendall _just_ died!"

"Yeah, and besides, I'm not leaving him!" Jo added.

I hated to admit it, but James really was being less than tactful. Kendall's body wasn't even cold to the touch yet. His face looked paler than normal, but there was still _some_ color to it.

"There's nothing you can do for him! He's dead!" James retorted.

"No! I don't care what you say! He's not dead! He's going to wake up any second now, and I need to be here when he does! I need to be the first face he sees!" Jo replied.

James turned to Carlos.

"Back me up here," James said.

"Maybe you should give us all some time to say our goodbyes," Carlos responded.

"There's no time! If we stay here, we'll all die! He knows where we're at! He's probably watching us right now deciding who to shoot next! Besides, Kendall's last wish was that we run."

Another gunshot rang through the air. We all let out terrified screams as James was shot in the forehead. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

"James!" Logan cried out.

Sheer pandemonium broke out at that moment. The four of us remaining took off running. Well…almost all four of us. I stopped in my tracks when I lost track of Logan. Carlos and Jo were ahead of me running for their lives. However, they stopped running when I stopped.

"What are you doing?" Jo asked, concerned.

"Where's Logan?" I answered.

"Camille, Jo, don't stop! We have to keep moving!" Carlos told us.

I had to admit it was odd hearing Carlos give us orders. Although I'm sure it was just as weird for Carlos to hear himself give orders.

"I have to find him!" I exclaimed.

I turned back around and headed back. It shouldn't be too hard to find Logan. We had been running in a straight line. All I had to do was retrace my steps. Unless Logan took off in another direction, but why would he do that? No, I had a pretty good idea where he was. I was willing to bet that he was with James still.

"Let her go," I could vaguely hear Carlos say.

I heard footsteps going in the opposite direction I was. I honestly felt disheartened by the fact that Carlos and Jo weren't coming with me. They didn't understand how I couldn't lose Logan. Not this time. Not again. First Kendall. Then James. I was going to do everything in my power to make sure Logan _wasn't_ next. I just had to find him first.

Sure enough, there was Logan sitting on the ground in between James and Kendall. His body shook with sobs. There was puddles of mud all around him due to the tears from his eyes mixing with the dirt already on the ground.

"Logan, we have to go," I said to him.

"What's the point? We're just going to die like Kendall and James, so I might as well be with them when I die," Logan responded.

"Logan, you can't just give up!"

"Why not?"

"Do you think Kendall and James would want you to give up?"

Logan shook his head, sniffling. I sat on the ground next to Logan, and gathered him in my arms. I was sitting in mud, but all things considered, that was the least of my worries. The two of us sat like that crying for what seemed like an eternity.

We heard the sound of rustling nearby. The two of us rose to our feet. Logan took up a protective stance in front of me. Our eyes scanned our surroundings. I sincerely hoped the rustling we heard was either Carlos or Jo, or better yet, both of them. I prayed that they were both still alive. We hadn't heard any more gun shots, so that was a good sign, right?

A figure emerged from the stalks of corn, and it definitely wasn't Carlos or Jo. I had never seen this person before in my life, and he must have been the gunman, or at least one of them because he was carrying a sniper rifle.

"Surprise!" the gunman said in a sinister voice.

"Why are you doing this?" Logan demanded, his voice shaky.

The gunman tilted his head back and laughed a deep, booming laugh that caused the hairs on the nape of my neck to stand on end. My eyes darted back and forth from the gunman to Logan endlessly.

"Because I can," the gunman answered.

"You have a weapon and we don't. How about you put the gun down so it will be a fair fight?" Logan said.

The gunman looked Logan up and down and laughed, thoroughly amused.

"You? Fight? Don't make me laugh, kid! You're no match for me!" the gunman remarked.

"What? Are you afraid that you can't kill me without your gun?" Logan asked, talking a mile a minute.

"I don't need a gun to kill you and your girlfriend there, and I'll prove it!"

The gunman tossed his weapon aside. I wasn't sure where Logan was getting all this newfound confidence from, but I just didn't want to see this gunman hurt Logan like I feared he would.

"Logan, please be careful," I said.

I was scared out of my mind. I was touched by what Logan was obviously trying to do; protect me. However, I was pretty sure that this would be the first actual fight Logan had ever been in. He just didn't strike me as a fighter at all. I watched as he balled his hands up into fists.

Two more gunshots were heard off in the distance, one after the other. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I let out an anguished scream.

"Did you hear that?" the gunman asked, cupping his hand around his ear. "I'd say my comrade just killed your other two friends."

Logan's feet left the ground as he launched himself at the gunman, tackling him to the ground. I was excited at first, but that quickly turned into horror as the gunman effortlessly overpowered Logan, pinning him down and wrapping two hands around his neck, strangling him.

"Get off him!" I shouted, climbing on the gunman's back and wrapping _my_ arms around _his_ neck, squeezing with all my might.

The wind was knocked out of me as I was thrown to the ground. I clutched my sides painfully. I was pretty sure my ribs were at the very least bruised from the fall if not cracked or broken too.

I looked up and saw Logan land a punch to the gunman's face, staggering him. Despite the physical pain I was in, I smiled; I was so proud of Logan.

"Punch me again, and that's the last thing you'll ever do," the gunman warned.

This guy was obviously a man while Logan was still a boy. He towered over Logan and was practically twice his size. He had a shaved head and eyebrows that put me in mind of Kendall's. He was wearing a black wife beater, and his arms were adorned with sleeves of tattoos.

I saw a second guy sneak up behind Logan. He too was carrying a sniper rifle. This guy was similar in stature to Logan. He had a blue Mohawk and several piercings on his face. He had his eyebrows pierced, his nose pierced, and his lip pierced. I would be surprised if his tongue wasn't also pierced. This guy however had no tattoos that I could see.

"Logan, get down!" I screamed as I saw the second guy point his sniper at Logan.

Logan dove to the ground as the second guy put a bullet in the chest of his much larger comrade. Much like James, the unarmed gunman was dead before he hit the ground. The gunman shot Logan in the leg as he tried to scramble to his feet. Logan cried out in agony, clutching his injured leg with both hands.

"Logan!" I shouted, pushing myself up off the ground.

When that didn't work, I dragged myself over to Logan. He was laying on the ground, scooting away from the gunman who was stalking him with a malicious grin on his face.

"Please! Don't hurt him!" I begged.

"Because I'm such a nice guy, I'll give you a choice; who do you want me to kill first?" the gunman asked.

I didn't even need to think about my answer.

"Me! Kill me! Just leave Logan alone!" I cried out.

Despite the gunman now pointing his weapon at me, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't know what would happen after I was dead, but at least I wouldn't have to watch Logan die again. At least I wouldn't have to watch Logan die like I watched Kendall and James die earlier.

At the last split second, much to my horror, the gunman changed targets and embedded a bullet in Logan's skull.

"No!" I screamed.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Quick question: If a character gets killed off in a dream does that still count as me killing off a character? **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Okay, by a show of hands, who missed me? **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, you should see my new apartment if you don't believe me. **

**No Way Out**

"No!" I shouted, my eyes flying open as I sat straight up.

I heard a calm, soothing voice beside me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It seemed too good to be true. But how was that even possible? Didn't he just…? Wasn't I just…? Wait a second. Where was I anyways?

"It's okay. You're okay," Logan said, planting a tender kiss on my forehead.

I did the first thing I could think of, and I threw my arms around Logan. I was completely over the moon with joy. He was alive! Logan was alive! Tears of happiness leaked from my eyes. I thought I had lost him…_again_! Now more than ever I was confused. I couldn't make heads or tails out of anything. I wasn't sure what was real and what was just a dream. One thing was for sure though; I didn't want Logan being alive to be a dream.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I took in the familiar sight of the bank where the robbery had taken place. I took in my surroundings, and in doing so, I became even more puzzled. Tony was there. That alone sent a wave of fear through every fiber of my being. I thought I would never have to see his face again. Johnny and Joey were there too. What was going on? Did the bank robbery never happen in the first place? Was it in progress? So what then, was the first one where Logan died all just some sort of sick dream?

I had a horrible thought. It was hard to believe that something as small as a cell phone, could bring about the death of the one I love. I rummaged through my purse with great urgency. I had to find it! I couldn't make the same mistake twice! I wouldn't make the same mistake twice!

"What are you looking for?" Logan asked.

"My cell phone. Where is it?" I replied, my eyes never leaving the inside of my purse.

I could tell merely from the tone of his voice that Logan was perplexed by my behavior. I didn't care though. Logan's safety depended on it. After all, I knew what would happen if I held onto my cell phone.

"You already gave it to the robbers. We all did. Remember?" Logan replied.

I tilted my head to the side and knitted my eyebrows. This didn't make any sense. That's not how I remembered it happening! What was going on here? I was so confused!

"Will you two shut up? Why can't you be quiet like all the rest of the good hostages?" Tony remarked, waving his gun menacingly at us.

My breath hitched in my throat. I still wasn't sure if this was just a dream or if this was reality, but in any case, a loaded gun was not something to be taken lightly. I grabbed Logan's arm, and he positioned his body in front of mine.

"Relax, kid. I'm not going to harm you as long as you don't try to pull anything," Tony stated, patting Logan on the cheek with his free hand.

Beside me, I could feel Logan tense from the unwelcome contact. His eyes never left Tony's. Logan didn't trust him for one second, and quite frankly, I couldn't blame him. I didn't trust Tony either. Then again, robbing a bank and holding people hostage doesn't exactly promote trust.

Then something just dawned on me. I didn't have a scratch on me. Logan didn't either. In fact, now that I thought about it, no one had been shot or killed at all. This was really starting to freak me out.

Tony walked back to the center of the room. Johnny was stationed at one door. Joey was guarding the other. Joey! Of course! I suddenly remembered the shaky arrangement he had with Tony.

"Joey, you don't need Tony to save your daughter!" I cried out.

Joey looked surprised when I had mentioned his daughter. Even though he had his gun pointed at me, I knew that he had no desire to shoot me. Unlike Tony and Johnny even, Joey had a kind spirit. At least the Joey I remember did. I couldn't be certain _this_ Joey did. I mean everything wasn't exactly as I remembered it.

Joey stood in front of me. Though I didn't fear Joey, Logan took up a protective stance in front of me. I was worried; not that Joey would shoot me, but rather that Logan would try to play hero and get himself hurt.

"How do you know about my daughter?" Joey asked.

That was the million dollar question. Well, one thing was for certain; he _did_ have a daughter. So then maybe the rest of it was still true as well. There was really only one way to find out.

"She's sick, isn't she? _Really_ sick, right? Do you really think Tony will take care of your daughter's medical expenses? He's selfish! He's not going to give you a dime!" I exclaimed.

That got Tony's attention. He stormed over to me, seething with anger. Looking back, I probably didn't think that one out too well. Tony definitely wasn't going to sit by as I insulted him and called him out on his untrustworthiness.

"Watch your mouth, girl!" Tony warned.

"You don't have to do this, Joey. It's not too late for you. I'll vouch for you. Logan will too! I'll tell the police it was all them," I said, pointing at Johnny and Tony.

"Camille, are you crazy?" Logan interjected.

I kept forgetting that _this_ Logan didn't know about Joey's terminally ill daughter. He didn't know that Joey agreed to help Tony rob a bank in return for a cut of money large enough to cover his ill daughter's medical expenses.

"Keep it up, and you won't be telling anybody anything!" Tony remarked, cocking his gun and pointing it at me.

Joey continued to talk to me as though it were just the two of us. He paid no mind to what Tony was doing or saying. He didn't even seem to even notice that Logan had said something.

"What other choice do I have?" Joey asked.

"You have a choice, Joey. You always have a choice," I said.

What happened next happened so fast that it went by in a blur. A gunshot rang through the room. I suddenly found myself lying on the floor with Logan on top of me. I immediately thought that Logan had been shot, and was looking him up and down for injuries, and was relieved to find none. I felt fine too, so then who…

"Joey!" I shouted.

I covered my mouth with my hand. Logan wrapped his arms around me in an embrace, gently shushing me. Joey had a bullet protruding out of his forehead. A thin stream of blood trickled down his forehead onto the bridge of his nose, traveling down further until it dripped off the tip of his nose. He fell backwards onto the floor. His face was inches from mine staring at me with lifeless eyes.

Then, there was the sound of glass shattering. That was followed by even more gunshots. I heard a shuffling of feet and loud shouts. I looked up from my position on the floor and saw the S.W.A.T. team and several police officers rush inside. Bullets were flying everywhere.

I knew that Johnny and Tony were outnumbered. They didn't stand a chance. I was just glad that this nightmare was finally coming to an end. Logan and I were both lying on our stomachs on the floor. That was when I noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. There was a wetness coming from my chest.

"Logan…"I choked out, suddenly feeling like a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around my torso and was squeezing every last breath out of me.

I felt a dampness trickle out of the corner of my mouth and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't saliva. I looked up into Logan's worried eyes. We both looked down at the same time; to the bullet wound in my chest.

I wasn't sure who had shot me. With bullets flying around everywhere, it could have been anyone. All I knew was that I had been shot. My strength was leaving me. The air in the room felt horribly cold. It was a chore to keep my eyes open.

"It's okay. You're okay," Logan said.

I didn't know who Logan was trying to fool, but I wasn't okay; I was far from okay! I had a bullet in my chest! I mean I get what he was trying to do; he was trying to reassure me that I wasn't going to die. I just found it hard to believe him when every breath was more difficult to take than the one before it.

I was barely aware that Logan had torn some fabric off his t-shirt and was pressing it to the gunshot wound on my chest. I'm sure he was putting pressure on it even though I couldn't feel any.

I knew I was dying. There was so much that I wanted to tell Logan in these, my final moments. However, my words were incoherent. It was hard enough as it was to breathe let alone speak!

"Shh. Save your strength," Logan told me, his voice cracking.

I couldn't be certain, but I thought I saw Logan's eyes fill with tears. I wanted to reach my hand out and wipe his tears away. I didn't like seeing Logan cry. I also didn't like to be the reason for Logan's sadness. The only problem was that I couldn't seem to even be able to lift my arm. I tried focusing only on that task, but it was no use.

"Stay with me, okay?" Logan said, his voice sounding far off.

My eyes shut briefly until Logan gently shook me, and they sprung open again before they started closing all over again. I wanted to stay awake, but I didn't. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep. I didn't want to feel anything; not pain, not sadness, nothing.

In a weird sort of way, I was actually glad that I was the one dying. I mean at least it wasn't Logan this time. I took comfort in the fact that Logan was still alive. I liked it better that way. I rather Logan live without me than me live without Logan. I've been there and done that. It's not something I want to experience ever again.

I hardly noticed Logan shake me more frantically than before. I couldn't even make out what he was saying to me anymore. My eyelids drooped as my eyes fell shut. Each tick of my heart was growing softer. My heart slowed down further and further. I could feel my life force seep out of me. Despite it all, I think I had a small smile on my face as I welcomed the pitch black darkness with open arms.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I have a new poll on my profile page. It's really important, so be sure to vote, okay? It has to do with the status of my In-Progress stories. I'm sorry about the lack of updates. I hate how I always make excuses for myself, but this is the part where I make excuses for myself. I recently moved, and then I had roommate problems. So that was pretty stressful. Couple that with the fact that I had absolutely no desire to write this whole time, and there you go. **


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